interviews and id checks

this week so far has been quiet. though there were a few random bumps.

on sunday after some late night emailing with the former adorable coworker we planned to meet up for food of some description on monday. i arrived well enough despite my lingering sniffles and the lingering chill of winter. after much deliberation we decided on food. a short amiable walk and we were there. we ordered some nibbles and a beer (non-alcoholic for him, oatmeal stout for me). the waitress who i must point out is probably only just legal to sell alcohol was new and fresh faced. she shyly asked for my id. doing the normal "i'm sure you're old enough but it's the law" act. i smile and hand her my drivers lisence.

now, for those of you who don't know, i just turned thirty. or as i like to call it. twenty nine and a bit. so to be carded is always adorable.

the sweet little waitress then exclaims, upon reading my date of birth and doing some quick math in her young brain... "oh wow! i mean. wow! i thought you were maybe 22 or 23... not... wow." and she hands back my id. so apparently i still look waaaaaaay younger than i feel.

which is sometimes weird when it comes to getting a job. i had an interview today. i'm sure i was way older than the receptionst at the front desk. i reckon i'm closer to the recruiters age than the receptionists in fact. so i always wonder if they think i'm young and just out of school. then they take a look at my resume. and see the amount of time spent at each job. three years here. 2 years there. another three here.

i wonder if they take me seriously. especially given how i dress and do my hair and makeup now. don't get any weird ideas. i just happen to have an ecclectic style that may span a couple of eras. i think it suits me. so shut up.

i guess the main thing is. it's funny how sometimes i look waaaay younger than i should. and yet, i suppose i shouldn't complain about it.

moving sale

the following items are up for grabs (or for a modest donation [oh please pick a modest donation, pleeeeez])...

i have some other stuff too... small items. which i won't list because who knows exactly what i might end up taking with me. i know some folks have called dibs on the big green thing. so whomever i deem most worthy will receive it (as in whoever says for sure they want it and will remove it and promises to do so in a timely manner... or whoever gives me the most candy. whichever.)

luv,
~me (poor poor poor me in need of money)... *puppy eyes*

the big green thing (rip my heart out if you must, but i can't very well take it with me)



















4 drawer dresser (happy goldfish included)



















beautiful pink flower bookshelf (i am loathe to see it go, but if it's to a good home i'll be mostly contented... mostly)



















chessboard coffee table (it's also a blackboard but after i tested it out i didn't like the feel of chalky nasty under my wrists when i used it as a coffee table, it was conceptually awesome but failed the non-ick touch test)














tv (yes, karen the one i took from you and that jason was cool enough to lug down the stairs)
entertainment thingy that the tv goes on (i know, i'm very descriptive)














the matching ugly chairs (which after my makeover are quite lovely if i do say so myself)




























3 shelved bookshelf (which always reminds me of the T)














one bed warmer... oh wait, no, that's gonna be put to use in cold cold england.



















i am going to miss all my beautiful colo(u)rful furniture. *sigh*

oh and if it's a selling point, i handpainted all this crap. take that martha!

except...

i am so angry. i want to be better. i want to be happy.

but i am so angry.

i know it's "natural". it's "to be expected".

but fuck that. so many things are to be expected. and damned if they didn't happen.

i know this is probably just a "symptom" or a "normal progression" for what is going on.

i know the world isn't conspiring against me.

but it sure as hell feels like it sometimes.

say one thing. do the other.

try not to get my hopes up. but fail completely.

i'm angry.

i'm sad.

at least i feel something. it's better than being numb. or apathetic.

but i wish this was different. i wish i was different.

i so very much want to change.

cuppin cakes

just for her and her obsession with the cuppin cakes...

at my holiday party... no wait, it's called a seasonal gathering. anyway. at the holiday party last night i stumbled into the haven of all havens. the dessert center.

calling to me like three giant breasts were three giant cupcakes. huge. gloriously frosted in pink, yellow, and blue. one was all spikey. one was all stubbly with frosting bumps. and the last... actually, i can't remember what it looked like. but it was blue. this... this was the cupcake station. a table devoted only to the cuppin cakes. with plates full of frosted and unfrosted cakes. bowls of toppings. and two mushroom capped chef-ets.

you could chose a premade cuppin cake. or pick out a plain one. at which point the cheffets would squeeze any colo(u)r of frosting onto it... and you could drown it in any type of candy topping you wanted. the sheer joy and utter brillance of this concept made me want to kiss both of the fresh faced little cheffets and demand they take me to their leader.

now if only the cuppin cake hadn't been made incorrectly...

*sigh*

brit speak

since i'm now in my new home i need to speak the lingo...

first things first.

i'm knackered. (translation: i'm fucking tired)

for now that is all. stupid long ass flights and packing and immigrating and blah blah blah. meh.

i'm home now. so it's all good.

night night.

hello again...

rereading myself. revisiting who i was. where i was. in a place that was good. in a place that was better than before. but not as good as now. never as good as the now. even with the insecurity of my future. the unknown. the known. the unforgivable distance.

letting my previous self re-emerge is a strange task. admitting age. inspecting the sameness against the difference. finding the once flaws which are now friends. reminders of years. of smiles. of laughs. of tears.

saddened eyes which brightened. heavy shoulders which lightened. a grey cloud which lifted.

i've never enjoyed looking back. though the risk of having to look forward is equally challenging.

yet somehow there is sweet but bitter joy in delving backwards. the anger and sadness are easier to taste again. to swirl gently in the mouth. the cool weight of many shed tears. the heat from layers of fears. a spicy note of regret. a crisp clean tinge of youthful confidence. to breathe in the air and inflame the flavor. rolling the years upon my tongue. it is easy to taste.

and to release it once again. to place it back in the bottle in the cellar.

to let it age and mellow.

to let myself age. and mellow.

hello again you.

i've missed your brown eyes.

i've missed the arch of your brow.

and i see that though you are just as jaded. there is finally a lightness to your heart.

it fits you.

tiny deaths...

every night.

they call sleep the "little death". a prelude to the larger more expansive death. a glimpse into the darkness beyond.

in my tiny death i am haunted by him. by things that can never be. by moments that are lost to me now.

and every morning. when i wake. alone. i die even more.

and i damn every waking moment. every passing second that it takes for me to rise from my coffin.

i wait for my tiny death... to grow.

to encompass.

to let me sleep.

sleepy sundays

either it's the cold virus getting me down. or i'm just really lazy. it's 3pm on a sunday afternoon. i've had one hour and half long nap. and i'm kinda feeling like i'm due for another.

i'm going to blame it on the cold.

maybe i should shower.

or i can just curl up under the covers and sleep.

whatevs.

uk strangeness

i've noticed that because the uk is inhabited by those highly prim and proper brits, that everything in this place has a prettier name than it's american counterpart. though, there are things they say that just sound so much worse than we yanks say.

i won't get into the nitty gritty of what prompted this observation. suffice it to say, that some female problems just sound more acceptable over here in the uk.

but no matter the accent...

it's still ick.

losing yourself

i haven't lost myself in a while. i haven't awoken from a dream to find that my toes have wiggled into the warm earth and become root-bound by the concrete world i inhabit.

i haven't wondered where the hours have gone. haven't noticed that the sun has set and risen while i remain pondering why the wind feels sweeter when you're in love.

i haven't wandered into the depths of sorrow. haven't hung my head in anguish. haven't had a day go by where i didn't know who i was.

i haven't lost myself in ages. haven't had a moment of non existence.

i haven't lost myself.

not a bit.

not ever since he found me.

today

today is the day i was meant to be born. the doctors predicted today as the delivery day. little did they know that at that moment and for the rest of my life. i was hitting the snooze button.

today is also not just the day i was meant to be born. but it is also the day i was meant to be a birthday present. a present for someone who was also born on this day. my grandfather. george.

today is my grampa george's birthday.

it would have been.

grampa died half my lifetime ago.

his body ravaged by cancer. there are photos of his last "good" days. he is smiling. he has his favorite chocolate bar next to him. he has his boys next to him. i believe he also had his dentures... next to him.

he was a character. his personality was divided between his children. and his children's children. and i have no doubt, his hardheadedness will be passed on for many more generations.

so today i am going to celebrate his and my birthday. it's a milestone one for me. i'll be sure to blow out a candle for him. and to order something extra chocolately in his honor.

ack!

what ever shall i do? the email is down. *panic panic*

how can i keep myself entertained if i can't send English random articles and cute pictures??

*panic panic*

i need to get a cold compress and lay down.

****update****
back online. deep breaths.
crisis averted.

old haunts die... old haunts live...

wandering back from the temp job. i had a feeling of "hey... i know where i am... i think..." and proceeded to walk into the cold night. my fuzzy blue earmuffs dulled the honking horns and cursing of the massholes on the evening commute. my sparkling pink scarf whipped in the exhaust as the blurred faces peered back through salt frosted glass.

walking along the charles. boston just a stonesthrow away. well... perhaps not my stonesthrow. the glistening lights bouncing off the frozen shell of the river. hundreds of heartbeats. thousands of sighs. all running for the exits home.

and here i am. meandering in the chill. feeling my life crystalize in the air. a million whispers scatter and float upwards. joining the clouds and stars.

i turn several corners and come upon a place i knew. a place i know. a bus stop that we used to take. from one place to another. to wander through the kiosks. to fill up on warm cinamon and sugar. to empty our wallets. to trade paper for denim and lace.

i take the free shuttle. the driver is the same as 3 years ago. i recognize him instantly. i wonder if he recognizes me. doubtful. i'm sure he sees a lifetime of faces. i'm sure he's blind to mine.

exiting onto the street i smile. i remember a small asian woman. i gave her a tissue. she was on her way to shop alone. i wanted to gather her into my arms and take her shopping. i cried on the bus. her smile and eyes were both happy and sad. i wondered where her son was. surely he should be taking her shopping. my mother was far away. and so i cried into my loves chest. my unexpected emotion shocking us both into laughter.

gathering my memories i enter the underground. burying myself with the machines and discarded newspapers. wedging myself into a corner by the door. ignoring the inquisitive smiles from young men who can not see my ring. disguised as it is by my blue knit gloves.

on the street again. lost for a second. backtracking. most places are the same. the pub. that other pub. coffee shop. conglomerate coffee shop. another pub. the gap is gone. i thought you'd be sad. it's where you got much of your american wardrobe from. so you'd only have to bring a toothbrush when you visited... much to the raised eyebrows of passport control i'm sure.

the hippy store is still there. the front is new. a fancy cafe. no longer the bohemian rambshackle that i loved. a snazzy new name. glass and wood. shiny and safe. clean and clinical. people are plugged into the wall. plugged into their ipods. their iphones. does anyone talk anymore? face to face? and not via a computor screen?

i waltz the aisles. touching the produce. gazing at the things i can't afford yet. only the basics. apples. carrots. onions. tea. eggs. and peas. the bulk aisle is calling me. the beauty of lentils and legumes is a siren song. i only manage to escape. i pay and leave by the side door. this is still the same.

the door empties onto a parking lot. the gym is across the way. this side street is quiet. i pause.

enjoying this moment.

this sweet moment of peace. watching the world rush by. no more than a few feet away. and here i am. in a bubble of time and space.

enjoy this.

then run for the bus.

and join the rush.

sleep hangover

since sunday was the day that never ended and i was left in deficit of sleep. i took it upon my sensible self to go to bed early last night.

i tucked myself in at roughly 9:30pm (yay i managed to stay awake that long!).

after a couple random incidents of wakefulness. *fist shake at the cute dog for barking* *fist shake at the weird cramps of femaleness* i slept all night.

...

and all of the morning.

i have now been awake for about half an hour. which, when we do the math, means i slept for 14 hours.

four. teen. hours.

you'd think i feel better for it. but you'd be wrong.

i now have a sleep hangover. headachey. tired. grumpy. slowmoving.

sigh.

oh well. maybe if i stay up later tonight...

oh and 5 days.

it's love when...

...you clean the house top to bottom.

...you put together a beautiful dinner featuring his favo(u)rite foods.

...you create a decadent dessert reminiscent of a favo(u)rite desserterie in the town where you met.

...you make sure when he comes home you are ironing his work shirts in high heels, lacy panties, and a sheer 50's apron.

...he asks you to take off the carefully picked outfit in exchange for a ratty old t-shirt, socks, and normal underwear because "you're gorgeous just as you are."

i love him.

'tis the season...

this christmas is extra special. it's the last one i'll spend in the states for a while. i'm moving. far far away.

to a land where the natives talk funny. where they drive on the wrong side of the road. and they add extra letters into(u) wordes.

i'm immigrating. i got my shiny visa in my passport. i have tickets. i have things to ship. things to give away.

it's scary.

but it's here. it's finally-actually-really-honest-to-goodness here.

surreal. perhaps that's a better word for how i'm feeling.

it's like, you plan and plan. think and think. but it's an event far in the future. until...

WHAM!

it hits you. it's here.

it's no longer in the future. it's tomorrow. it's now.

and soon enough. it'll be yesterday.

...

tomorrow is when it becomes real. when he steps off that plane. when we celebrate this, our last christmas is boston. for in 2 weeks...

we fly.



i've always loved flying.

fuck it

everything blows today. it's been one of those weeks. i'm not supposed to let it get to me. and for the most part it's not. but every once in a while i want scream and cry and break lots of things into tiny little bits.

so thanks. i'm sure you're quite happy with yourself.

now just go fuck off.

ugh

today after work i went out with a couple of friends from the office.

i shared a bottle of wine.

then i had a pint.

then a half of cider.

now. normally i'd be fine.

but today was no a normal day.

i hadn't eaten.

the husband picked me up from the pub. i promptly went to bed. and slept for two hours.

now, we were meant to go out to a nice romantic dinner. upon waking me up my husband was met with tears. and tears. and more tears. i felt awful. sick and sick and just not well at all.

he tucked me back into bed. went out to the restaurant and explained that his wife was ill and would not be able to come out for dinner.

the restaurant (which is a pub and wine bar we often frequent, where our adorable gay neighbor works) was very kind and sent him home with his dinner uncooked so he could pop it in the oven at home and take care of me. they also sent him home with a bottle of wine.

i love this town.

i love my husband. even though i feel ill, he has been sweet and understanding.

i feel like crap for ruining our dinner. but he is so sweet that i almost don't notice that i've ruined it.

empty shroud

i feel guilty. for my emotions. for my behavior. for my shortcomings. for my dreams. for myself.

i feel sad. for the loss. for the months. for the years. for the days. for the upset. for you.

i am empty. my throat constricts with every breath. my heart jumps to a stop before slowly beating again. my lungs wilt and freeze. the cold panic runs from my head to my toes.

my shroud of despair hangs above. i fear it's descent. but i welcome the silence it will bring. the silence to my stricken heart.

the quiet stopper to my tears.

i love this place

if ever i doubted that i had made the right choice in moving to this country... this would make me realize that there is no place i'd rather be. than here. in quaint little middle england.

to and fro

sometimes i feel like a storm. ignore the usual cliche of emotion. the turmoil of femininity. the raging thunder of minority. or the cloudy days of anxiety and melancholy.

i feel more like a tornado.

swirling above. rushing in one direction. changing course. defying logic. unknown. untempered.

i push forward on one side. i lift upwards on another.

hopscotching from one town to the next.

i can leave a trail of destruction.

or simply wander in a field. moseying along. biding my time. until i tire. and leave.

i don't know whether it's good or bad.

does it really matter.

i am what i am.

go where i go.

i land. i leave.

forever to.

i am chaos. i am gentle.

wherever i go.

shiny

new laptop.

*drool*

bliss.

her name is george. don't look at me like that. just accept it.

and no. i didn't chose it based off the model name. honest.

no really. i swear i didn't.

okay.

maybe just a little.

the joy of fridge diving...

take one hungry kat (on a diet no less)... add a nearly empty fridge...

find one beef hot dog. slice 1/3 off. slice the 1/3 piece in half lengthwise. cut a triangle from the flat cut piece... you now have a fishy. make small slices in the surface to look like scales and a gill then repeat with the other half. take the remaining 2/3 piece and slice lengthwise up to 1/2 inch from the rounded top. rotate and slice the halves lengthwise. now slice each of the 4 "legs" in half. you now have an octopus. place both the fishies and the octopod onto a microwave plate. nuke for 20 seconds. they will curl and all the decorative slices will "pop".

find one egg. mix with a dash of soy sauce and a sprinkle of sugar. pour into hot pan and swirl until the egg mixture is thin and nearly cooked. starting at one side of the pan roll the eggy crepe. roll it like carpet or a newspaper. after each roll flatten the top until you have a long rectangle. remove from heat and slice into smaller rectangles or triangles.

find some celery and scallions. take a few leaves from the celery. and the green bit from one scallion. slice the scallion into 3 or 4 lengths. slice these lengths (but don't cut all the way on only one side) into thin ribbons. you now have a "grassy tuft"

find rice. make rice.

find carrot. slice carrot into thin rounds and cut the rounds to resemble flowers.

find frozen peas. nuke frozen peas for 10 seconds until no longer frozen.

now... assemble.

put rice on a plate. spread out until plate is covered. unravel some of the eggy crepe. place on the bottom 1/3 of rice like sand and coral. place the celery leaves and scallion "grass" in and around the "sand" place the fishies above the sand on the top 1/3 of the plate. place the octopod on the sand near the bottom 1/3 of the plate. place carrot flowers around the celery and scallions. place the peas around the fish and octopod like little air bubbles.

now laugh like a maniac and show your creation to your roomate.

wait for roomate to pat you on the head.

because clearly you're crazy.

in all... about 500-600 calories.

and i'm still at my calorie intake for the day.

woot.

the day before

today is the day before. before the goodbye. before the flight. before the broken heart.

i woke up early. in order to see him as much as possible. to curl up with him on the couch. to feel his heartbeat against my ear. to try and fool myself that i'm not leaving again.

it's been 4 weeks. it feels like 4 hours. it's gone too fast. i should have made it last longer. i should have lingered more. woke up sooner every day to spend the precious few moments together.

i've spend several sleepless nights. just next to him. listening to him breathe. watching him sleep. curled into him before sleep takes me. and i wake alone. i can hear him quietly rustling through the flat. his normal routine. upset now because of my presence.

we're married singles at the moment. we have our own routines. we have our own way of doing things. we have our lives that we live. and in due course we'll have the joy of fitting our lives together again.

but that's to come.

right now. i just want for today to stay.

and for tomorrow to go way.

wow

i always find it funny that the first thing in a new house which requires my cleaning is always the bathroom. i spent about 2 hours scrubbing, brushing, wiping and spraying it this morning. i have sensitive hands now from all the chemicals and hot water. but the result? so totally worth it.

i think it has not been cleaned since i left. 3 years ago.

seriously. gag. toilet. ugh. ew.

why are boys so gross?

i mean. do they not see it? are they immune? do they have toilet seat blinders on?

and ew. shower. i had to scrub it before i could even set foot in it.

sigh. tomorrow it will be the kitchen.

then i think i'll tackle the back hallway and stairs. so much dust. so much doggy hair.

luckily he cleaned my room before i moved in. he even inflated the bed and gave me clean linens and an electric blanket in case i got cold. i love this dude who is like my other brother. except, he and i can talk about things that i can not even begin to imagine discussing with my brother.

it's nice to be back. weird. hairy. dusty. and gross.

but mostly nice.