biblical

it's been raining for 3 days straight.

last night in the car the roommates girlfriend asked aloud "how long is it gonna rain for?..."

the answer of course was 38 more days and nights.

the ever present sirens of the urban neighborhood have been multiplied.

our sweet tempered charles river has swollen into an angry teenager.

as much as i curse that evil hill i must climb every day to get to our house.

i'm very thankful for it on days like these.

we'll be an island soon.

i should break out my coconut bra.

is it?

talking.

it's like some sort of diplomatic meeting.

he on one side.

me on the other.

small steps towards peace and disarmament?

home and tired

never again. oh icelandair. never. again.

worst airline evar. delays in boston. delays in glasgow. super late arrival in london.

whatever. i'm home now. and though i haven't done my marathon sleep. i've come close. went to bed at 10. woke up at noon.

so here we are. home in england. husband is at work. i'm still trying to wake up. contemplating a cup of tea.

things to note...

working at a school which focuses on musical talent is very depressing when you lost most of your singing range from lack of use.

reeses peanut butter cups are better than most things on offer.

a pair of geese can bully eight other geese off their turf with much honking, head waggling, and many ruffled feathers.

people often worry that they are offending you when they say "you look nice today" because it implies all the other days they saw you, they thought you looked like crap.

scotch tape makes excellent on-the-job bandaids for papercuts.

cushions for your shoes only help alleviate pain if you aren't standing in heels for over 7 hours a day.

temping is a really fulfilling job. you get to meet people. and you get to leave them before they start to piss you off.

it's official...

i have turned into my mother. not my mom now. but my mom from when i was a kid.

i just spent the last hour doing my hair and makeup. for why? i wasn't even sure if i'd have a job today. so why get all dolled up like i did?

just in case.

that's one of those things my mom always said when i asked her why she puts on make up and does her hair when we're only going to the supermarket.

just in case.

was her usual response. in case we see someone we know. or in case we see someone we don't know.

it's as if she was telling me you never want to venture out of doors completely naked. you have to always put something on. you have to make the effort.

so i find myself. fully dressed. hair dried and curled tantalizingly at the ends. makeup done to my normal standard which takes about ten painstaking minutes. then i check myself in a mirror. about a dozen times.

i'd say that's plenty of effort in order to sit on my duff all day and watch tv.

i might make a trip to the grocery store. just to make it worth while.

the road...

we walk along. hands brushing each other. the space between both close and eons away.

a step. a pause.

a fork in the road.

to the left... the path descends. there are few bumps. few places to stop and fight. the way is shrouded in mist and a heavy darkness. the path is small. only allowing for one to pass at a time. single file. one. alone.

the other path. wider. but slightly uphill. a few bends in the road. and the path is hidden. but somewhere. everywhere. the path is bathed in light. and because it is uphill... the view is all the more worth the effort.

which do you chose?

buh-buh-buh-boston

forget brrr-ritan. it was 21 degrees when i landed today (that's minus 6 degrees to you brits). good lord this trip is gonna be cold. i think it's now down to 6 degrees. i don't even know what that is in celcius. cold. fucking cold.

but it's nice to see everyone again!

missing piece...

do you ever feel empty? as if a part of you were excluded? as though a significant slice of your whole had been left out? a wedge that was torn from your being and you are only a glimmer of what you once were. a shadow. a phantom. an unfinished sculpture.

a paragraph short of a novel.

i at least have the luxury of knowing where my missing piece is. safe and secure. on a different continent. a different time zone. may as well be a different planet.

the path is set. not in stone. but in words. words yet to be written. to be typed. folded into an envelope. and sent to government lackeys. words to be verified. authorized. initialed. and stamped.

i am empty. no amount of spoken words. no amount of handwritten conversations. can fill this void. there is a spot in my arms that is cold. the warmth is yet to return. i've a lonely space in my bed. i'm sure there is a twin vacuum on the other side of the world.

it's not just my piece that's missing.

i want to be home.

i want to go home.

to pick up the missing pieces. and slot them gently back where they belong.

we're puzzles. interlocking limbs are meant to join. to show the bigger picture. to tell a story.

to have and to hold.

richer and poorer.

sickness. and health.

and nothing shall ever part.

told ya so!

because i have the maturity level of a 5 year old who has just ingested her weight in sugar or the maturity level of a 12 year old in a pg 13 film or the maturity level of this guy, i figured to prove the point and once again show that us ah-merr-kens ain't as dumb as what ya'll think we is...

i give you all... the fastest growing grass.

yes. i have harnessed the magic(k)al technologies of grass-growology... uhm. and.. uhhh... stuff.

Figure1: saturday morning. seeds planted on tuesday.














Figure2: saturday evening. wine was not used as fertilizer.














Figure3: sunday morning.














Figure4: sunday evening.














Figure5: monday evening. the grass seems to enjoy traveling around the house.




















so there! phblt!

love is...

...heading to the store for a 4 pack of beer for your hunny to go with dinner because it's been over a week since we had any in the house.

...when he gets home and quite excitedly tells you that he bought beer for you.

...and you reply, well i bought beer for you!

we are so meant for each other.

manic

everyone has their up days and their down days. obviously not everyone posts their roller-coaster emotions. but then. i've never been like everyone.

i've always been quick to temper. just on the edge of any given emotion at any given time. happy one moment. melting into tears the next.

i've always feared i would end up in some sort of psych ward. buckled down and medicated. the last vestiges of sanity ripped away by anti-psychotics and bleached walls.

last night was not one of my best. i've had to sweep away my shattered self this morning. i felt the familiar heat of embarrassment creep into my cheeks as i saw my anger and depression laid out before me.

i overcompensated today. i laughed too loudly. smiled too often. tried to exorcise my feelings.

i'm sure i failed miserably. i'm sure the weakness shone through my eyes. barely filtering through the haze of pretended happiness.

maybe tomorrow will actually be an up day. or perhaps it will be more of the same.

i'll just have to wait and see i suppose.

and in the meantime. i should lock away all the breakables.

i miss what was. but what's more... i miss what can be.

i miss what was. but what's more... i miss what can be.

the trials of temping...

temping in an office consisting of four... FOUR people. one of which had a corner of his office full of packing supplies and feathers. like a creepy little nest. which he actually napped in. and after i was told to clean it up (while he was gone) he came back... looked for his "things"... then went and collected one of the newly packed bags of styrofoam peanuts to use as a pillow. weird.

but i've organized. i've sorted. i've smooshed boxes. and i have even vacuumed. it's nice and clean now.

oh and there is free coffee, pizza, and many delish snacks to be had. poo for diets.

but i'm allowing myself this bag of fritos. because the office is on the second floor. and i've had to drag many boxes down to the dumpster... which involved climbing back up those stairs. about ten times today.

so yeah. screw you calories!

mmmm... nom nom nom.

brrrrrr-ritan

good golly it's cold. windy. overcast. drizzly. and did i mention it's cold?

dude

i am totally married.

dude.

sitting

curled upon the couch. remembering the womb. tucked inside myself. a knot of pain. sits within my chest.

watching the sky. the liquid motions of cloud against grey-blue. the sun trying desperately to be seen. like a too small child among adults. clinging to coat tails. wishing for height. longing to join the laughter. i exhale an empty breath. and with it, i send the sun my understanding. your day will come. perhaps tomorrow. do not stop shining. do not stop singing. your voice is muffled but never silenced.

i watch the drops fall from the pregnant sky. heavy laden and straining against it's boundaries. eventually the seams will burst. and a cacophony of weather will beat down upon us. forcing us indoors. into cars. into each others arms. into each others orbits. into each others eyes.

my book lies unread. my tears remain unshed. i've turned my back to the inner world. i'm just going to sit here. and look out.

perhaps the suns song will reach me today.

if not now. then some other day.

obligatory i'm still okay post...

okay.

so wedding planning is going... okay? okay.

we have accomplished quite a lot really. jolly good. oh god. i'm talking like them aren't i? that's a bit rubbish isn't it? oh man... there i go again.

i need a good healthy dose of american... stat!!!

all set? hey dude. hey ya'll.

phew.

man. i never knew infiltrating the english peoples would be such a detriment upon my american-ness.

i find myself talking like them only without the fancy schmancy posh accent. it's like a little kid imitating it's parents with it's first cuss word. it's cute the first time and then once you realize the vulgarity you feel shame for the parents and harbor feelings of calling children services.

but you know. it's okay really. because i know, i'm slowly incorporating my amercanisms into the british way of life. i now know of at least two brits who enjoy pb&j sammichs. whoooeeee. we shall prevail.

oh yea. go america.

also...

random. kid on the bus. i say kid. i mean teenager. he was staring intently at all the ladies. all the single ladies... all the single ladies... so he was totally digging on the chicks at the bus stop. and then on the bus. now. i don't know about you. but when i'm on the bus i tend to stare out a window. or let my eyes pass over the other passengers as i watch the scenery pass by. i also like to look out for my upcoming stop.

so this kid. he's sitting in the front. kitty corner to where i am. he's not looking out the window. he's positioned himself at an angle. so he can continue to peruse the talent on the bus.

i watch him as he stares blatantly at all the people with the double x chromosome. clearly he's hoping to get a glimpse of some double something if you know what i'm saying.

so on one of my passes out the window and over the heads of the other riders. i see the kid. he's looking at me. our eyes meet for a split second. i presume my gaze is vague and foggy (what with the cold impeding my system and my general lethargy when it comes to moving vehicles).

he is intent with his look. and then.

and then?!

he winks at me.

what?!

hey kid. i'm sure that if i had enough of an early start on it. i am old enough to be your mom.

seriously?!

winking? at complete strangers?

sweet mother of...

i should be flattered right?

instead. i'm horrified.

is this what happens when you're married? you become either clueless when people are flirting or you are so appalled that anyone can find you attractive.

ugh.

and with this cold i couldn't even formulate the correct facial expression to show my displeasure. so i just kept staring out the window... the window on my side of the bus. well away from winky mcwinkerson over there.

ew.

friday fun?

google-ing random things today. and i decided to pop in a band i love and was introduced to when i first moved out to the east coast. in a red-lit lounge in cambridge i saw them. fantastic. and though my cd collection is still out in the uk i still hum certain tunes when i walk to and from the bus.

so i was quite pleased to see that they'll be playing in central square on friday. i am so going to put my glad rags on and partake in the fun. and since the venue links all the bands playing for that day i'm actually really excited to see them, them, them, and these guys.

anyone else interested in going?

glad i don't live here really...

i am staying at a friend's house until my upcoming move to boston. she's terribly kind to let me crash here and take up half of her bed. especially given her need for a good nights rest due to school, work, and a cold. also keep in mind the fact that she's a light sleeper and i make odd keening noises throughout the night. apparently i started my "hum" as she calls it around midnight last night. even after much gentle persuasion i did not cease my slumbered singing... i have the bruises on my legs to prove it.

so tonight i'll be sleeping on the futon on the lower level of the apartment.

luckily i was not tired around 11pm when her other housemate came home from dinner. a dinner that she promptly ran off to after dropping part of her ikea bedframe on her toes *fist shake, damn swedes!* so housemate, fully sated after dinner and presumably in a better mood to finish her bed, begins the arduous and loud process of assembling her bed.

after much more dropping of metal pieces (onto hardwood flooring) she then begins to hammer the thing together. at 11:30 at night.

so i'm happy i've been relegated to the futon. i can only imagine the angry kicking upstairs.

i am so glad i don't actually live here.

tough week...

i've had some sort of weird "thing" going on. don't want to bore you with the details. but i'm just not feeling myself lately. and i do hope that sentence reads better than how it sounds in my head. because if not... awkward.

so here's something equally awkward but more funny (to me at least). i shall set the scene...

driving in the car. with DM and EX. if you know who DM is, then yay, two points for you. if you know what DM is, then yay, two additional points for being a nerd. we were all driving back from the pet store where i was cooing and squeeing to cute fuzzies. which prompted our talk of cute fuzzies... and their giant balls. which of course degraded into talk of balls.

EX: when i think of my genitalia i think of my balls.

DM: i would have to say my balls aren't the first thing i think of.

me: i don't have balls. but i don't think of a specific part when i think of "it".

after a few moments of awkward silence... i presume it was awkward silence because now we were all thinking of either each others balls or va-jay-jays.

me: i would like to be a boy for a day.

DM: we could switch bodies. but then you'd have to cheat on your husband.

me: why? don't you wanna have sex with my husband.

DM: i wouldn't mind but he's in england! duh!

me: oh right. well, you'd have to be okay with putting your thingy in another boy because i so would wanna try that.

DM: i think if i only had a day i'd pretty much have to have sex with anything that moved.

[silence]

DM: i think we'd both be really sore the next day.

me: yea. yea we would.

ah... the intellectual conversations we have. and THAT was sober!

observing

the air in the bus is warm. stale. stagnant. as though time itself were idling along with the engine. already the bus is half full. or half empty. depending on your mood. on your outlook.

it's been a nice day. one of many that have been strung along this week. like little beads of warmth. hanging delicately from a chain. bouncing sweetly against the collarbone.

this third day of sunshine and gentle breezes casts a spell. the continuous rain has been tossed aside. wellingtons and brollys have been stored away. flip-flops and teeny tiny skirts have been dusted off.

our little world has broken free of the chrysalis. wriggling out from under the grey clouds. spreading multicolored wings. letting our cold skin warm and color until it matches the gold in the sky.

and there i am. sitting in the corner. pressed against the cool glass. head tilted away from the bustle and noise. away from the clamor of youth. the clinging clothes of summer. the alcohol from happy hour.

i close my eyes to the sound of it.

i close my eyes and observe.

office politics

it's less politics and more just plain common sense...

learn people's names. their correct names.

for the past year i've been called "ashley" by one guy upstairs. and i respond because he normally speaks in a heavy accent and kinda talks fast... so "ashley" could sound like my real name. i only just realized over the past month and a half that he calls me "ashley"...

i'm in a dilemma... do i correct him? or just let it go?

i personally don't feel that i look like an "ashley". maybe more of a "sexicca" or "hawtley" or "babelisa" or even an "alexandra".

okay already

sheesh. here's one okay? we only just got married 2 weeks ago. you'd think people could wait a few days for the photos. but noooooo-ooo.

pushy mcpushersons.

wait really?

staying at my mom's house...

no internet.

...

i'm having the shakes of withdrawal.

oh thank fuck for stolen internet.

how on earth can you live without internet?

it's going to be a long 4 days here.

pray for me blogosphere. pray for me.

chance meetings on the bus...

i saw jesus today.

he's much taller than i anticipated.

he also had some pretty sweet shades on straight out of the 80's.

who knew jesus was an emo hipster?

telling the truth

i want to tell you the truth. i want to look you in the eyes. to hold your head in my hands. to lose myself in the quiet storms of your eyes. to forget the past. to remember the future. to close the door on my anxiety and depression.

i want to tell you the truth. that i hate you. that i have no space in my heart for you anymore. that my anger has crystallized around me. and that i've moved on.

i want to tell you this.

but it's not the truth.

the truth is. i love you. despite reason and rationale. in spite of the anguish. and contrary to what my history states. i don't want to run.

i tell you this here. my heart laid bare. upon this electric witness of glass and wires. it's only fitting. the first inklings of love were planted here. sprung from the dark earth of my angst. it's grown. blossomed. and spread.

and now... the first harsh winds of winter have set upon my limbs. and love runs slowly through my veins. slowly and quietly.

stoically waiting for the thaw.

waiting for you.

things one should never do alone...

...drink an entire bottle of wine.

...watch a television documentary about sectioning (translation from british: sent to the looney bin)

...look for flats (apartments). *just added*

...any cooking involving a hot surface. *just added*

...watch "eternal sunshine of the spotless mind" * just added*

...go to bed.

...

just sayin'

i know...

i know you know this. i know you know everything.

...

but i miss you.

more than my simple words can ever describe.

i'm sorry.

upon waking...

upon waking the weightlessness dissipates. the soft cocoon of sleep bursts wide. gravity takes over. and i fall up out of dreams.

upon waking my wings curl into infinity. becoming useless nuggets of ideas. satellites to my worry. orbiting my thoughts.

upon waking i leave a world. where my eyes are not so heavy. where my heart is not so empty. where my conscience is not so full.

upon waking i stop being me. i start being someone. a little more rooted. a little more sensible. a little more tired.

upon waking i realize. for eight hours i've been dead.

taking chances...

... on loving myself.

i'm my worst enemy.

but i'm my best friend.

i deserve to love me.

because how can i expect anyone to love me.

if i don't change, and learn to love myself?

resolve

whatever doesn't kill us only makes us stronger. but i don't think that's true. what if all those little things that "make us stronger" do kill us. maybe not right then. but later. all the small things adding up. and the strain on our heart and resolve becomes too much. all the scabs and scars that held us together. fall apart. rip from our souls. until we are left empty.

more than empty. we are now a negative. a black hole. we've turned so far into ourselves that we're upside down. inside out. backwards. waywards. all that remains isn't even a shell. we are simply a cavern.

as if all the small things. worked slowly. like the trickle of water over eons. breaking away. bit by precious bit. then the flood gates open. and all evidence of existence is washed away. all that is left is a canyon. impassable. implausible.

but. the water doesn't just destroy. all the pieces of us. tumbling along. rushing over rocks. passing by the detritus of other lives. to eventually slow. to saunter. to settle. to create an island. peninsula. a small haven.

i suppose it's that glimmer of hope.

the quiet promise of becoming something else.

after all that you are has been ripped away.

perhaps that's what makes us stronger.

who are you? and what have you done to wendy?

many of you know and have expressed concern for the fat kitty. if you don't know, or don't care about the fattness or the kittyness of my kitty, then i suggest you stop reading. because we're about to get all fat kitty in da hizz-ouse yo. oh god, i think i just puked a little in my mouth after typing that. next thing i know i'll be wearing ugg boots with a micro-mini denim skirt.

i digress.

kitty + fat = wendy

well, on friday of last week she was taken to the cargo place by my dear ex-roommate mark. he's a sucker for animals and he totally would have kept her if i had asked, but instead he took a half day of work in order to drive her to the location where she would be sent as cargo to london. after an ordeal with the cargo people saying the fattness needed a bigger kennel (really?! bigger? is her fat gonna expand in the air like a bag of lay's potato chips?) she was sent happily (yea right, more like pitifully) on her way to the UK.

English and i started our journey to pick her up with a quick stop at mac-oh-doh-nar-dohs. which is japanese for macdonalds according to my friend and fellow half slantyeye, jax. so we get on the way down to london anticipating the suggested 5 hour wait time to pick up the critter, hence we started our trip after we knew she had landed, thus giving us 3 hours to arrive and hopefully only maybe an hour or two wait at the animal quarantine place. just to be sure, we give the peeps a jingle. "she's ready now". what? what about the suggested 5 hour wait time on your flipping website? *shakes fist*

fast forward 3 hours and we are sitting waiting for the kitty at the quarantine. we wait about a half hour before they bring out a scared caged shadow hunkered down in the back of the kennel. we get back into our car (the beast if you will, given it's huge size compared to the regular cars out here. yes hunny. i said it's huge. *rolls eyes* men.) we get into the car. release the creature. and she mews a few times before settling into my lap where she remained for the 3 hour car ride.

this, is the first thing we noticed as being "odd".

when we got home she skulked around for a bit before deciding that my lap was where she wanted to be. it seemed my lap was the only place she wants to be lately. this of course being the second thing we have labeled as "odd".

when either of us is home or sitting on a couch, she needs to be glommed onto us. odd? yes. very much so.

she has become the kitty we always wanted. a proper kitty. affectionate and cuddly. and constantly purring.

of course this means they either switched kitties on the plane or my cat has become inhabited by an evil space alien and it's only lulling us into a false sense of security before it tears us limb from limb in a slow and agonizing death.

but you know. she's cute. so it's all good.

stateside

so for the past 2 weeks i've been in the good old U S of A. it's weird to come "home" and visit. to realize that, hey, i don't really live here anymore. i find myself smiling at all my old haunts. i let my fingertips linger on old memories. i look past the skyline into where i was before.

it's strange. being back here. as the plane made it's final descent into boston i noticed the color. or the lack of. as if that extra u in britain turned the colours up a few clicks. as if that pronounciation gave extra light and life to the landscape.

but this place. this place is still a part of me. it's visiting an old friend. it's putting on a favorite pair of jeans. it's worn and comfortable. it has a familar sound. a smell that brings you back.

it's nice to be stateside every once in a while.

but it's better still to go home.

news alert: lady time causes local girl to be all biatchy

sooooo... some of you may not want to hear about lady times. so i would suggest you people either stuff cotton in your ears (or maybe not) or go here if you're a girl or go here if you're a man.

so yea. lady times. now some of you folks may know that as per most things associated with me. the lady times are not so normal. they aren't regulated. they just kinda show up like the crazy aunt dora who brings a chicken and lime jello mold to every family event, you know, everyone has fingers crossed she doesn't show, yet inevitably she does. and it's never on the right date or time. or it's during a formal event and she shows up in a tie dye mu-mu and fake tan. or worse. you're just walking along minding your own bizznes and hey, there she is. all crazy and manic.

riiight.

so that's me and my lady times. i don't like it. it doesn't like me. we have an agreement where i get a few days warning. headaches. random cramping. then a few days of happy solitude. when BAM. hi *shuffling feet* how are you aunt dora? and then we go back to our own little worlds for anywhere from a month to three.

i kinda just live with this little niggle. where i know it should happen. but it's so far between each visit that i can't really begin to count days. and it's not like i'm a regular girl. in all sense of the word. it's lame. stupid lady times.

i guess the only thing that is normal about it is that i get really emotional. like. even more than usual. which. you know. is already a lot. so dump more hormones on the mix and i'm a wreck.

oh joy of joys. the remainder of my goodbyes to boston are gonna be all crazy aunt dora aren't they?

dammit.

2 more days. i'm sure you're totally looking forward to me being mopey huh hun?!

sigh...

i'm getting old. you know. i turn thirty on saturday. terrifying. ab. so. fucking. lutely. terrifying.

i dont' know why. it's like there is this invisible hurdle that i have to jump. and with these extra "love" handles. sheesh. that hurdle has grown into a giant wall of amazonian proportions. and here i am. little. squat. child bearing hips. and short legs.

but you know. as with most days in my life. i try not to look too far ahead. i just try to tackle it one day at a time. somedays it's not so easy. somedays i can actually pencil in events several months ahead without going into a fullblown panic attack. most days i just shrug it off like last nights pyjamas.

today was a good day. this week has been pretty good. all things considered.

given the fact that i'm turning thirty. that my husband is in our home without me. that i still need to apply for my visa. that i still need to put a bandaid on my financial status. that i need a job. that i need a job that won't make me take out an ak47. that i'm about halfway between all of my family, friends, and my hubby. that my housemates freaking dog is barking at 11:30 at night. and that i still don't feel like i've accomplished much in my life.

this week has been surprisingly okay.

either i'm turning a new leaf.

or the neighbors downstairs are smoking some good pot which has wafted up to my room through the floorboards.

meh.

long days and kimchi

my day started at 7:30 this morning. up. email. shower. get all gussied up. receive email from long lost friend. skype husband. finish getting ready. rush out the door.

brunch with the ladies. much laughing and gabbing.

then puttering around davis and harvard... then missing the bus i wanted... taking a different one. and meeting up with the adorable couple at dph. that's the danish pancake house. mmmm.

then much more laughing. so much my sides actually hurt.

and then. the entire reason we got together in the first place. the trip to the korean superstore.

*cue "god" lights and choir singing aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa*

now we aren't completely sure how long we spent in this giant mall of asian. it could be anywhere from an hour to two hours. we were so engrossed with pointing and laughing and gesticulating at the pure awesomeness that is asian packaging. we spent a good 20 minutes in the kimchi section. barrels and barrels of kimchi. that you can taste before purchasing!

wow.

so after some questionable purchases we drove back to the couples home where we whipped up an asian feast. can i just say that i love dumplings. i really really love them.

i wish movie theaters would put dumplings in a popcorn box and sell them at the concession stand. because i would prefer that to the lame ass popcorn.

so yea. i only got home about 30 minutes ago.

so much asian.

too much kimchi.

i think i'll go sleep it off. i'll probably have a kimchi hangover tomorrow.

totally worth it.

lame

i'm tired. i'm missing my husband. i can't think of anything interesting to say.

on the plus side i had ethiopian food for the first time yesterday. it was good. but i have to say the leftovers if left in your car for an hour will perfume your car with the lovely smell of farts.

also. berkeley is full of hippies. i always forget this. and then i get pleasantly surprised at the amount on anger i find bubbling to the surface when i walk around there.

oh and i love noodle soup.

that's all. carry on.

lost

i lost the last 7 months of my life.

will i ever get them back?

ch-ch-changes...

steady. but surely. and i know it's still early days.

but i am making improvements. i'm making plans and lists. things to do. things to work on. things that must happen every day, week, month, year... so that i can be better.

so that i will be better.

so that i will be a better me.

not just for me.

but for you too.

i know i will still have drops. falls. and stumbles. but i am working on learning to pick myself up. so you won't always have to.

but the thing is. i still do this for you.

and i have a sneaky suspicion. it will always be for you.

dietary snacking...

so today i forgot to eat. breakfast. lunch. meh. i got home and was feeling a bit. odd. tired. and a bit lightheaded. and the world would not stop spinning.

i made myself a nice microwave baked potato. and given the lack of calories today i figured. what the hell. i'll use REAL cheese. not my normal fat free kind. oh and i heated up a big bowl of fat free turkey chili.

i feel much better now.

but something was missing. a dessert.

i convinced the roommate to go to the corner store. he purchased some dorritos and a medley of cadbury eggs. for my dessert? i passed up the nilla wafers. i ignored the oreos. i got myself a bignormous box of graham crackers.

graham crackers?! THAT was my dessert of choice? i could have had any number of higher caloric goodies.

but man. you can't tell me that graham crackers and cold milk isn't a delish dessert.

mmmm.

so my dessert is all of 250 calories. yay for diets.

sitting...

... in the early morning light. no one is awake. no one is around to hear my empty heart. no one to see the tears which my dry body can't produce anymore.

sitting. watching the smoke lift from the ember. watching as a little more death creeps into my lungs. wishing it was faster.

sitting. knowing that i'll never convince an unwanting heart. knowing that i've failed. knowing that i knew all along. i'd end up alone.

sitting. pathetic. desperate.

sitting. wishing.

sitting. having conversations. a hundred conversations. always ending the same. even in my hopeful heart. even the imagined love, leaves.

sitting. dying.

sitting. going through the motions. feeling my body give up. trembling. shuddering. trying to let go. but unable.

sitting. knowing i'll never be able to really love again. knowing that even if i do carry on. i'll always be wishing. always be hoping. to catch a glimpse in a crowd. to catch a pair of blue eyes. to become more than what i am. to reignite. to remind. to be missed. to be loved. to be given a chance.

sitting.

alone.

bus rides and shopping bags

public transportation is the main reason i moved back here. the second being of course, that it's where of all places, my heart feels at home. even in the uk. i still love it here best. but all things considered. i'd still rather be back in england.

but the bus system. the subways. the commuter rail. everything is close. easy to use. full of fantastically strange people. often times you can hear a busker playing. or singing. my recent favorite was a harmonica player on the red/silver line. the metallic twang was weaving past the posts and beams until it was twisted all the way around each and every one of us. waiting for a train. half not wanting to wait for the train.

sometimes the buses can be crowded. or eerily empty. they can show up late. they can show up one block early, leaving you out of breath and cursing into the exhaust. sometimes (and this is the worst) they just don't stop. they don't see you. or you don't walk to the curb fast enough. and efficiently presuming you're waiting for a different bus, they just keep on motoring.

even with that inconvenience. the next bus is only 10 minutes away. of course... that's if it's a weekday. and if it's a busy route.

regardless. it's easy to get around. you've got legs? great. you can manage. you don't got legs? well, no worries. the buses lower. the drivers help. and as evidenced today by myself and a nice young man. other riders are always happy to lend a helping hand. or shoulder as in the lad's case.

a sweet little woman was having trouble getting out of the bus i was waiting for. between us was the curb and a small river of rainwater. i took her hand. she hesitated. so i took a firmer stance and was about to help her more. she let go. i was worried. but then i noticed the fresh faced college kid. he wrapped his arm around her portly aged waist. and gave her a shoulder to lean on. the little old woman wandered cheerfully to her destination. he and i exchanged smiles. good samaritanly smiles. as he continued on his pedestrian commute.

the bus pottered up the road. carrying me. my groceries. and my good deed for the day.

all nestled happily. albeit a tad rained on.

countdown!

today i fly to the east coast. i wave farewell to family and friends in the warm california sunshine. my heart is full. my legs are tired. and luckily my luggage isn't too heavy.

this time next week. i'll be getting ready for yet another flight. i'll be saying goodbye to my other-brother and all my crazy eastcoast friends. i'll be whispering fond words to the winter wind and snowstorms.

it's all so very strange.

i thought this day couldn't come soon enough (oddly it didn't). and yet i am sad to go. i hate leaving this part of my life. my american self. but what is waiting for me on the other side is so wonderful.

my kitten. my husband. my adorable gay neighbor. sunday lunches. tuna mayo sammiches with sweet corn. jacket spuds. cauliflower cheese. fish fingers. roundabouts. castles. tiny cars. real pubs. cobblestones. sheep as far as the eye can see.

everything i've grown to love.

i'm so happy to be going home.

7 days!

late nights and emery boards

to try to rectify the 14 hour coma of yesterday i've decided to stay up a bit. yea.

who'm i kidding? i'm going to end up sleeping past noon now. phooey.

but at least i buffed my nails all purty and got a good 4 hours of law & order.

woot.

4 days.

living with the ghost

my flat is empty. there is only the gently purr of my faithful kitten. though, she is first to abandon me once the window is open. or if any men enter the house, she is there, by their side. ignoring me.

the walls are empty. my life. our life is sectioned into cardboard cells. hidden from view are the happy memories and sweetly whispered secrets.

but these are not the ghost. it's not the ghost of a marriage that has seen better days. it's not even the ghost of my previous self. the happier one. the carefree and loving one.

no.

this is a ghost that truly remains unseen.

i noticed it most this morning. the sugar bowl that was near empty yesterday. is now full. the milk that was on it's last legs has been replaced with a new carton. there is a cereal bowl, rinsed and set ready to be placed in the dishwasher. the mail that was piled carefully on the counter. is opened. read. and relegated to the garbage.

i'm pretty sure the cat can see this ghost. i have a strong feeling it comes and goes with a gentle pat on her head. and possibly with a warm lap for her to perch.

if i sit here. still. and close my eyes.

i can almost smell the familiar scent of my ghost.

almost.

spider watch... 2007

the battle continues. reports are flowing in from all areas of the house...

last weekend in fact was a very dramatic case of spider infestation. upon opening the wardrobe i discovered a fat brown spider nestled amongst my hubby's shoes. thinking quick i sounded the alert. "spider!" once the alarm was raised my hubby jumped into action. with what can only be described as sheer bravery he began his patented kill-the-spider dance. now, to an uneducated observer this deadly dance would look similar to a eek-it's-a-spider dance. but, then, you would be sadly mistaken.

unfortunately this highly effective kill-the-spider dance contains so many rituals and routines that frankly, we did not have time for, so i leaped into action. grabbing one of my husbands shoes i began to pummel the fat brown spider until it stopped scuttling. half of the spider lay in ruins in the wardrobe, the other half was a schmear on the shoe i held in my right hand. i looked up to see my hunny finish the last steps of the kill-the-spider dance, which looks oddly similar to the oh-good-you-killed-the-spider dance. i stood and waited for the brave husband of mine to clear away the wreckage of what was once a giant fat brown spider.

spider watch. 2007. the count is 4.

the scene... a dark hallway. the hour is late. my feet are bare. i notice a darkened spot on the carpet. quickly i turn on the light. i recognize my oldest foe. my archnemisis. the spider. the ikcy long legged fat body spider. a good inch and a half or two in legspan. a good inch or two of squarshable surface if you ask me.

i calmly walk around the spider in the hallway. it watches me. my reflection moves silently in its many black eyes. i grab a pink converse sneaker from the doorway. i crept stealthily back towards the spider. i lifted the chuck. and WHAM. Wham. WHAM.

from the other room my hubby emerges. "that's a big one" he says. "yea." i respond. i walk past my hubby and go to sit on the couch. my weapon cradled in my arms.

the house is quiet. the house is safe.

spider watch 2007 continues.

the score

spiders. zero.

me. three.

this last one was the biggest. AND it found me on holiday. everybody else was screaming and/or pointing and/or gesturing to it whilst looking away in fear/disgust. the husband (ever so brave) was pushing the spider away from the couch with his foot (in a spider proof shoe of course). i jumped up from my seated position and began a rousing rendition of a spanish flamenco dance upon the foul creature.

the first stamp landed mostly harmlessly on it's outstretched legs. pinning it in place on the hardwood floor. the second stamp landing perfectly with a resounding "splat". i walked away to fetch a paper towel for the husband to do his many job of discarding the still twitching carcass.

i sat back down on the couch. placed my right leg over my left knee. and heard several disgusted cries of "eeeeeeeewwww". i looked down. and smiled at the big round wet circle on the bottom of my shoe.

oh yea. i kick some spider ass.

on the move

one would think that after 3 years of marriage i'd settle down. stop the constant jigging of my legs. be able to sit still for more than 3 minutes without a television, or laptop, or kitty in front of me. one would be wrong. even given the size of my ever expanding hips and ass you'd think i was a bit more sedintary. well... okay. i am. a bit. but if i don't have something to do i do just tend to be a constant bored blur.

it's odd.

so it makes sense i suppose. that after 3 months of living in california i'm on the move again. heading east. i'd say to greener pastures. but most likely those pastures are covered in snow and ice. i'm heading back to boston. well, brighton really. for 3 months (fingers crossed it's less) before i head back home. home to england. home to husband.

so this is my last week in cali. it's all a bit rushed. i'm saying goodbye to people all over again. it's strange. and sweet. and scary.

at least this time i know where i'm going.

it's much more exciting when you know what's coming up.

i get to look forward to things.

i can go running headfirst and not worry what's on the other side.

goodbye california.

i'm sure we'll meet again.

letters unwritten...

... words said but unheard. exchanges of looks and love that never happen. except when i slumber.

part of me is so constantly sad. and the other is ever hopeful.

i try to look forward. to that future that was clear. and though the path is muddied and the horizon is vague. i still feel a familiar presence by my side.

i can not fathom in my heart of hearts... that this moment will define us. we know each other so well. and though it is strange now. just take my hand.

i'll walk slow. i'll walk strong.

we'll walk together.

try your hand

in response to a bratty someone. here are two recipes:

dumplings

2.5 cups all purpose flour
1.25 cups boiling water
1/2 tsp salt (optional)
1/2 tsp sugar (optional)
cornstarch (for dusting the work surface)
small bowl of water (for sealing the dumplings)

1/2 pound ground pork
1/2 cup finely sliced cabbage (savoy, napa, or even brussel sprouts)
2 finley sliced green onions
2 tbs soy sauce
1 tbs sesame oil
1 tsp vinegar (rice wine vinegar if you have it)
black pepper (to taste, but don't over do it)

first, put the flour and salt in a bowl. the sugar and salt are optional because everyone has their own tastes. i prefer my dumpling skins less sweet so i add salt. if you like it more sweet add the sugar. the flour and water combination on it's own is slightly bland with a hint of sweetness. so add salt or sugar to your taste.

okay. flour and salt in a bowl. with a spoon and working quickly, pour the boiling water over the flour. mix until it's a big lump. it will look scary. dump it out onto the counter top and begin to knead the dough. do be careful as the dough will be hot from the boiling water. knead until it is smooth and only just warm. roll the dough into a uniformly thick log. with this amount of flour you should be able to cut the dough into roughly 18-20 pieces. roll the pieces into balls. lightly dust your work surface. put a dough ball on the surface and lightly dust the ball. take a flat bottomed pot or pan (or tortilla press if you have one) and with a gentle and even pressure, smoosh the dough ball. continue this procedure and stack all the wrappers on a plate. the starch should keep them from sticking.

next mix the pork with all the other junk. take a dumpling skin in your non-dominant hand. place a teaspoon sized lump of the pork filling and place it in the center of the skin. brush a thin amount of water onto just over half of the dumpling skin (i use my fingers) be sure it's a thin layer of water and not sopping wet. also i put the water on the side that is closest to my body because it's easier to close it up that way. now comes the hard part. there are loads of ways to fold these. i suggest googling "folding dumplings" to get some fancy ideas. it's too dificult to explain without pictures. so you can just fold the dumplings in half and pinch the ends closed. or fold in half and use a fork to seal the edges. i generally pleat my edges. it's the same way you'd pleat fabric. in any case. seal the dumplings.

when that's all done heat up a non stick pan over medium heat. add about a tablespoon or two of plain oil. when the oil is hot but not smoking, put your dumplings in. leave them alone. don't flip them over. just let them brown on the one side. when they are just turning golden, add about 1/4 to 1/2 cup of water to the pan and cover. leave the heat on medium until there is steam bursting out the sides. then reduce flame to low. i generally let them steam until the water is gone and i can hear the dumplings sizzling again. during this time i usually mix a dipping sauce:

1/4 cup soy sauce
1 tbs vinegar
1 green onion top sliced fine
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp water
1 tsp hot sauce (i use rooster sauce. it's asian. it has a rooster on the front. it's like the asian versian of ketchup. i put it on everything)
1 to 2 tsp of sesame oil

take the dumplings out of the pan and enjoy. they are crazy hot out of the pan. and depending on how lean the pork you are using they can drip scalding hot juice on you. oh and if you don't like pork you can use chicken. or you could use ground shrimp. or even a soy paste meat product thingy.

and there you go. dumplings!

oh and i said two recipes didn't i. so for the second. you will probably have leftover dumpling filling. i use this to make rice porridge. in thailand it's called jhok. it's a breakfast thing usually made from leftover boiled rice. it's not just a thai thing. all the asian cultures have their own variation. in it's simplest form it's rice boiled with chicken stock (or veggie stock). when i make mine this is what i use:

1/2 cup white rice (any ole type)
1/2 cup of brown rice
1/2 cup celery chopped
1 tbs grated ginger
2 green onions sliced
water or veggie stock (this is hard to measure. you'll need at least 4 cups. but it depends on how thick you like your soup AND how long you cook it)
any leftover dumpling filling
2 tbs fish sauce (or more to taste)

basically you chuck everything into a pot and set it to boil. once it's boiling let it simmer until the rice just falls apart. i prefer my jhok to be the thickness of a thin oatmeal or clam chowder. after everything is cooked and soft (for me this takes about an hour) i ladle out a bowl ful and garnish with lots of fun asian things:

fried garlic - garlic is grated finely and gently fried in plain oil until golden brown. my mom had a jar of this always full and at the ready by the side of the stove. we put it in all our soups. the oil is nutty and mellow and the garlic is so crunchy and just punches you in the tastebuds.

sliced celery tops and green onions.

a salted duck egg - don't make a face at me. it's delish. if you don't have any of these then you can use a regular raw egg. the soup mostly cooks the egg, so if you can't have raw eggs then don't use one (or use a pasturized one).

rooster sauce - also know as sriracha. you can use sambal olek if you have it. i prefer sriracha.

pickled chilies - i sliced all my thai chilies and chucked them in a jar and covered them with vinegar. i keep them in the fridge. i use this with the sriracha because i love the tang of vinegar.

finely sliced ginger and white pepper are also nice to put in your soup.

and that's it. when i made this last weekend i made so much i was able to have a bowl of it for breaky every day this past week. i have never been so happy to wake up in the morning.

mmmmm.

visa visa visa!

good news. i sent my visa in on thursday.

fingers crossed.

fingers crossed!

jeeesh

6 am. i'm already dressed and showered. it's early enough that i may have done it in that order.

were damn near ready to leave.

wheeee!

home for the holidays!

time for the hubby to see his in laws for the first time since the wedding.

time for me to stuff my face with my long lost american foods.

joy!

i am jittery with excitement!

fighting

i make no promises. i can not guarantee the length of this burst of optimism and assertiveness. i suspect it will ebb and flow.

i know i have up days. and i have multiple down days. but i have a goal set.

i am going to fight.

i am going to fight you.

for you.

because you deserve to be fought for.

and you deserve me.

plans

just for you jax...

my 3 year plan, by wendykat.

ahem, my 3 year plan is very lovely.
it is pink and frilly and smells like cupcakes.
sprinkles on top and a cherry too.
oh yes, my 3 year plan is lovely.

get a job out here in brit land.
maybe buy a house.
sell the house and move to cali land.
open up a shop.
yes, my 3 year plan is basic.

for now i bake some cakes.
weddings and celebrations.
i create cards for giving.
eventually we'll sell 'em.
a business plan is in the making.
with my mba husband at the helm.
i'm the creative engine but numbers hurt my head.

in the moment we're in some debt.
climbing out is priority one.
but in the meantime,
our 3 year plan is on.

*bows and exits stage left*

strangers...

living apart from my husband is weird. it's been *counts on fingers* five and a half months that we've been apart. we did see each other over christmas. but that was in itself a whole different kind of weird. i mean. i went to visit my husband. my husband. you don't visit your husband. unless of course he's in jail and it's one of them awkward conjugal visits in a sleazy trailer.

which, judging by our last conversation, isn't the case. he's still working. and he's not stamping out license plates in the local jail house. though i reckon if he was he'd be so dapper and cute in his jumpsuit and i bet they have tea breaks and everything.

that odd scenario aside...

we're married. been married for nearly three years. but we're kinda just seeing each other now. i mean. we talk everyday if we can. for about half an hour. only half an hour. but he's so busy. and our conversations all are about how work was. and our routines are so basic and well, boring. plus when we talk. when we talk. it's his afternoon and my morning. so i haven't even started the day. i don't have any interesting anecdotes at seven in the morning. all i can talk about is how i slept at a weird angle because at some point during the night my fuzzy bedmate has migrated into the center of the bed causing me to move around him and get a crick in my neck.

and all he has to tell me is about meetings. so many meetings. he's a manager. i presume that's what managers do. they meet. with people. and talk. about stuff? *head tilt*

during the weekends i try to get out and see people. as does he.

so right now. in this instant. we're like strangers. two people. with a little in common (wedding rings and a looming anniversary). we both live our separate lives. i even catch myself sometimes. thinking... "oh, well when he comes to visit i'll show him this place and we can go eat here..." but i have to stop. and remember. there is no visiting. we're not dating. i don't really live here. this is just a stopping point. this is a five month layover on my journey back to the uk. i have a life. it's been put on hold. the pause button firmly pressed down. except. that it hasn't paused. we've both been going about our daily business.

have we grown apart? does absence make the heart grow fonder?

i ask. because of a recent conversation. (i apologize now hun for putting this out here)... but he said he didn't sleep well... had a lot on his mind you know. busy at work. lots to do. and maybe he's a little nervous about me returning.

...

nervous?

i don't understand. and i want to understand. maybe it's misplaced or misdiagnosed anxiousness about my return? maybe he's excited but it's a nervous excited? is it because we've been living apart for five months? so now it's like we have to start all over again?

hi. i'm natalie. i think you're cute. wanna get married?

and of course. being a girl. and i just found out that being an aquarius makes me more likely to be very emotional. who woulda thunk? i'm freaking out.

clearly i'm going back to the uk. i don't think it's anything so strange that i wouldn't go home. i'm pretty sure if something really odd happened he'd have told me don't come back... or at the very least we need to talk. but that hasn't happened. and i hate that the insecurity and doubts from someone else is now flooding into my body. that the crazy suggestion from someone who doesn't even know the whole story is coloring my view. two months ago i would never have even given the idea a second thought. in fact, two months ago i was very upset that anyone had given the idea a thought (never mind the fact they actually voiced it to me). *fist shake*

but here i am.

my leg is in constant nervous motion. i've pilfered my roommates cigarettes more than once today. and the bottles of rum on top of the fridge are looking mighty tempting.

is it just this weird limbo we're in? is it delayed irritation for the months of my unemployment? is it the weight that i'm trying to shift. is it the weird last two weeks of my four week holiday that we spent together? is it work? is it absence? is it me?

you do want me to come home right? don't you?

because i do. so desperately.

i'm empty. i'm halved. i'm nearly translucent.

i don't want to be a stranger.

i miss being yours.

more ups and downs

frustrated. tired. lonely. and aching.

i try to be optimistic. i strive to keep a positive outlook. but i can't begin to hope or expect. the moment i do it all goes downhill.

i play out dialogue in my head. i pretend everything is working out to plan.

but it doesn't. the words i want to hear are unsaid. the gestures i long to see and feel are memories fading.

but the tears and the ache are real.

painfully real.

i fight an internal battle every moment of every day. i fight against my nature to run. i fight my heart and it's desire to freeze. i defy my head calling it quits. i ignore the voice in my mind which says i should give up. i fight the urge to fight.

it's been over a month. this internal war. waging in my tired body.

only a month.

and i want to wait.

but i'm so tired.

i see the white flag in the corner.

i don't even have the strength to lift it.

the hour long visits. early morning emails. a visit here and there. the constantly empty house no longer a home.

i'm dying. slowly suffocating under the weight of my emotions. under the heft of my hope.

but i can't make the decision. and i despair at the thought of it being made for me.

i no longer have the ability to look forward. towards a future which once seemed so clear.

i'm despondent.

i can't hope for anyone to love this strange creature which i've become.

small. withered. empty. and hollow.

i want to give in.

i may as well give up.

you win.