Tag: London

Angst, Humor, Husband, London, Sad, Travel

Another Humorless Interlude – Hyperbole Will Return Shortly

“Anytime you suffer a setback or disappointment, put your head down and plow ahead.”
– Les Brown

Thanks, minions, don't mind if I do.

Kittens, I’m bitter.  Talking it over with Peregrine helped, as it so often does, to really organize my bitterness into manageable and coherent issues and I finally realized why I’m so disappointed – you know, besides the fact that my best friend and lover is moving to London without me.

The real problem is that I feel horribly left behind.  I gladly put J.’s schooling at the top of my priority list and considered my ambitions and goals on hold and never considered it a burden or bad decision.  I still don’t.  I can write from anywhere, but there are only a few really great schools for accounting and finance and I was perfectly content to go where he schooling took us, and wherever his jobs will too.   But suddenly, I’m not going with him anymore (and yes, I know I am eventually, but just indulge me in this mini sulk, alright?) and I’m not sure how that fits in.

I’ve delayed grad school or other academic ambitions, writing is hard when you can’t really devote yourself to it because you’re earning the bread/bringing home the bacon/whatever, and I’ve stayed an extra three years in my dinky university town waiting for him to catch up to me in schooling.  And now, the sacrifice I was willing and glad to make (and still am!) isn’t really paying out the way I thought it would.

I hear you now, “G’DUH, Small Dog.  Welcome to life, you whiner.”  You’re right, I’m sure, but that doesn’t stop the disappointment.

I’m grateful to have a job, goodness knows not everyone does these days.  I’m proud to be able to support my family and keep us out of debt while we finished up undergraduates, internships, and the first few years of marriage.  I’m ludicrously proud of J. and what he’s achieved and thrilled about where he got into school…

But what about me?

Yes, I’m perfectly aware of how selfish that sounds, but I can’t help it.  What about me and what I wanted and planned for?  Three years isn’t a long time in the grand scheme of things, but honestly it has seemed horrendously long to me.  I’ve been working a job that I can say I am grateful for and usually enjoy (and you can bear witness that the stories I’ve got out of it are amazing, eh, ducklings?), but I don’t want to be a police department receptionist for the rest of my life.  It’s a job without the possibility of promotion or progression.  Ditto really for the town we currently live in, and frankly most cities compare unfavorably to London.  J. really was the only reason I stayed where I am now…and he’s leaving.  I’m having a weird time processing that.

So, I’m bitter.  Six more months of slogging (yeah yeah, I hear you again, “Cry me a river, C.”) past when I thought I’d be moving on and forward with our/my lives/life.  It’s not the great tragedy I’m making it out to be, I know that, but it’s still not…what I planned.  And I hate having my plans messed up!

At the same time, I’m feeling a little smug that I’m holding up as well as I am.  I’ve only really whined to Venice, Peregrine, and Hennessy, and in the meantime I have packed up a third of my house to store (the reason for which you will just have to wait and see!), kitted J. out fully in sweaters and suits, researched places to live, made due when Her Majesty’s Government turned our plans on their heads, and generally kept on keeping on.  I’m tired, disappointed, but proud and damned effective.

Rant over!  Thanks for listening, kittens, you’re all sorts of awesome.  But you knew that.

Friends, Humor, London, Travel

Things To Do, Things To Do…

“I just got hit by a wave of sleepy.”
“Huh.  I’m scary hyperactive.”
– J. and C.

Today is J.’s last day at work.
This weekend is our last together in our first flat.
Four days left until we fly back to the East Coast.
Nine days until we’re in London.
Things to do: legion.
Gloom and sulking tendencies: alive and well.

However, a few phone calls with friends shows that they are going through their own sloughs and confirms that mine aren’t really that bad, just damned inconvenient.  I have not had a child I was babysitting urinate all over a several-thousand dollar harp in addition to having seizures.  No kids have conducted a drug deal in front of me resulting in arrest.  And good grief, Venice, you’re still laughing, smiling and going to work?  You’re a champ.

Packing commences this weekend.  Gah.

Humor, Husband, London, Travel

Such Sweet Sorrow, My Eye

“I would have to say loneliness is next to uncleanliness.”
– Janeane Garofalo

Today kick’s off J.’s final week at work, which means next week we head back East to see my parents for three whole days, which means two weeks from today we land in London…which means three weeks from today I’m back in the States, sans my husband.

I’m starting to get awfully depressed about the fact, but trying to buck up.  I’m useless if an emotional wreck and we’ve still got work to do in getting him settled in the UK…but I can’t promise I won’t collapse into a puddle of wimpy tears when I get home.  Dratted immigration law changes!

Small Dog...sulks.

I got really mopey last night as we cuddled on the couch watching movies – as evidenced by the fact that, when we ran out to get some frozen yogurt at the local froyo bar, I combined sour gummi worms with dark chocolate yogurt, a revolting combination.  Obviously my brain wasn’t working due to stress.  And then neither of us slept well, me because I was too busy trying to picture what it would feel like going to bed without J. by my side.  I can joke all I like about sleeping in the very middle of the bed when he’s gone (usually countered by J. claiming I already do anyway), but the prospect of actually not having him there for months is starting to feel…decidedly crappy.  To think, I used to like mostly being on my own!

Cheer me up, kittens.  It’s Monday and far to early to burst into tears at work.  What’s going on, good and bad, in your corners of the world?

Friends, Humor, London

Weekend Roundup II

“The day I made that statement, about the inventing the internet, I was tired because I’d been up all night inventing the Camcorder.”
– Al Gore

In linkstorm apology form.

Haven’t done one of these in a while, but I feel as if I’ve been neglecting you, possums, so here’s some of the latest from around the web – my corner and otherwise.  If you have any pretty, cool, or interesting things to share, post them in the comments and share with the other minions.

Janssen has an equally fabulous and talented sister, Merrick, who has a kinda rockin’ sense of style.  See here for the reason why I must now head to another state to find an  H&M in an effort to recreate her outfit.  Also, check out some of her recent commissioned art for a local haunt – it’s nouveau Art Nouveau, brilliant!

Speaking of fashion, watch this charming video and enjoy.

The news that I am a history nerd will surely shock no one here, right?  Check out an article on the Smithsonian’s website on attempts to save the Taj Mahal.

Decision fatigue…another term to add to my ever expanding vocabulary of ways to describe my (and some of my nearest and dearest’s) problems and neuroses.

Tom and Lorenzo are back to blogging about their original muse, Project Runway, as well as the ups and down (and crashing failures) of the fashion world.  I want desperately for them to be my gay best friends and help dress me on my more blah days.

Since we’re in a London mood these days, here’s a fun Facebook group that shows off the city and allows insiders to give you tips and hints of where to go.  There are also pictures of random things that group members find all over the city, like the Daleks!

In related news, J. and I bought the new series of Doctor Who and made through it like bandits in two days.  We’re now waiting less than patiently for the next part of the series to conclude – and avoiding any friends, forums, or internet types that will tell us what’s happening against our will.  As River Song says, “Spoilers!”  (Someday I WILL have BBC America and this idiotic year long lagtime will be no more!)

Drat.  It’s true.  I’ve been working out steadily for a couple of weeks now.  I ache constantly and in some strange places – especially when I let J. tell me what sort of exercises to do and wake up the next morning unable to walk – but I’m determined to stick with it.

And because I’m a habitual self destructive-ist, I’ve got a hankering for this recipe with summer peaches and nectarines.  Which wouldn’t be so bad except that I’m sure I’m capable of downing one all by myself in one go.

One of the truly loveliest of my lovely friends, Marie, dropped by with her husband unexpectedly yesterday and we managed to squeeze in a visit that probably cut into the time they should have been spending at a wedding reception, but I was too selfish to let her off easily!  The flying visit had only one cloud over it, that she informed me that They (whoever They are) are remaking one of my most favorite campy films, Clue!  This is unacceptable.  No one could possibly recreate the hilarious Madeline Kahn moment, “Flames…on the side of my face…”

We’re not the only ones relocating to Europe, Margot’s sister Pinto and her husband are heading to Germany.  Also there will be future exciting news on Margot herself, stay tuned.

Friends, Humor, Life, London, University, Work

Brief Dispatches

“I hope I didn’t bore you too much with my life story.”
– Elvis Presley

Some of my friends seem to have gone completely round the twist lately, and not one has been able to satisfactorily explain their strange, sad, pathological, or just flat out bizarre behavior.  I’m baffled, kittens.

Dear police officers who have had all year to complete 40 hours worth of training: no sympathy.  I’ve sent you quarterly updates of your training records and multiple emails this month alone reminding you that I’m turning everything in at the end of the week, your sob stories about how you never knew you were 39 hours short will not fly here.

Sweet merciful chocolate, J. starts grad school three months from tomorrow!

Sweet merciful chocolate on a stick, we still have so much to do…

I have stayed up late every night for a week now, in a unprecedented attempt to prove that I am not a dull, matronly, boring old married woman at 25.  The net result is that I’m near psychotic from sleep deprivation and have never used so much  concealer in my life.  I r adult now, k thnx bai.

We are smack in the middle of the busiest work week of the year preceding the busiest work day of the year, the 4th of July (which includes but is not limited to VIP performers, parades, marathons and 5ks, street festivals, massive firework displays, and the gradual wearing down of any and all patriotic feelings on the part of our department staff as we deal with screaming children, patrons livid with the parking situation, traffic accidents, any amount of petty crime, and 48 hour work days).

My birthday just keeps on going!  Celebrating it with various friends and family took up about a week and I milked every day of it (Can’t do the laundry, it’s my birthday!  Can’t save that baby from the pack of roaming wolves terrorizing that burning building that was started by the earthquake, it’s my birthday!).  Last night I got the probable last of my belated birthday present…just in time for my anniversary on Friday!

Seriously…I’m so tired right now…  Ladies from the parish are coming by this evening, I should probably clean the flat and not take a nap.  But…

Visa applications can be submitted starting tomorrow, but they probably won’t be completed seeing as I have to be at work until 9pm prepping for the dratted 4th of July.  Freaking colonists and their freaking independence…

Oh dear, do I have anything for dinner?

We’re really moving in just about 2 months.  Please hand me that paperbag and ignore any sounds of angst that may escape my muffled mouth.

We’re really moving in 2 months.  London!

Grad School, Humor, London, Travel

No, Really. It’s Going.

“Nowadays, they have more trouble packing hair dryers than baseball equipment.”
– Bob Feller

Come on in darlings, and sit down.  Tea?  Hot chocolate?  Huge amounts of doughnuts?  Alright, it’s time to face the hard truth.  When prepping for a continental move or extended travel, you’re going to have to leave most of your personal things behind and it’s time to start making some cuts.

No, no, come back.  *pats couch beside her*  This isn’t as harrowing experience as you seem to think, although it might be a bit surreal at times, but Aunty C. is here.  There is no need to clutch your pearls, I promise.

Here’s the thing: you probably have a lot more stuff than you think you do.  When you live day in and day out with furniture, books, clothes, appliances, computers, serving wear, towels, blankets, and everything else, you tend to stop thinking about it in terms of individual things and more as just the basic equipment that makes a household go.  Which is of course exactly what it is, but when push comes to shove, you’d be surprised how little you can actually live on.  You will be equally surprised how much stuff that leaves you to get rid of, store, or donate.  Let’s start with the biggies:

True. Very True.

Books
Depending on who you are the volume of and attachment towards them may vary.  At Chez Small Dog books are sacrosanct, and we have lots of them.  Also, we don’t buy books casually, all the books in our library have been thoughtful, deliberate purchases as we refuse to clutter up precious bookcase space with untried tomes – that’s what libraries are for.  The practical downside of this, though, is that none of our books are negotiable.  Store.

Linen Closet
We have multiple sets of towels, sheets, and blankets.  We may or may not take some of these things depending on what housing we get (Dear University, still waiting…) but if so it will be one set of sheets and one blanket and we will pick up anything else that we need there.  Ditto for towels.  We have a gorgeous quilt made by the sparkling Marie and her mother for our wedding and a pretty afghan my grandmother made for us that will go in storage.  The cheap blankets we use for napping on the couch, cuddling during movies, or as throws will go to anyone who wants them, or the donate bin.

Movies/Music
I realize that we’ve moved on from that medieval notion of CDs but you may have some lying around.  If they are dear to you, transfer them to your digital library and store the disks.  If not, find someone who would like them and get them out of your way.  J. and I buy movies like we buy books: deliberately. However our tastes in films is a bit more snobbish, we buy them very rarely and generally ones that will stand the test of time.  Decide if you want to take any of your films with you and if so in what format – digital library, their individuals cases (which I don’t recommend at all), or a large multi-disk holder (which I do).  Again, remember that wherever you go you will have things like libraries, film festivals, student discounts to movieplexes, and in a pinch Netflix to amuse you.  Although if you’re going to a place with a thriving theatre and social scene (read: London) Aunty C. would be ashamed of your for staying inside and watching a film you’ve seen a dozen times on your laptop.  Take a few movies for sick days, by all means, minions, but if that’s the extent of your entertainment while living abroad, I wash my hands of you.

Let's pare this lot down a bit, eh?

Jewelry
Most women and some men have a mix of good and cheap jewelry, and it’s time to separate the sheep from the goats.  I have only a couple of long, chunky necklaces: I seldom wear them and they aren’t precious – they’ll be shipped off to my sister (Snickers benefits greatly from this move, let me tell you), while I have some very nice pieces that I will take with me.  If you have truly precious sparklers, family heirlooms, or anything at all you’re not comfortable traveling with, secure it!  Store it properly with Good People or in a safe deposit box, I really don’t recommend taking that sort of thing with you unless the move is permanent (and in your carry on bag, if not on your person!).  I have a large, beautiful rosewood jewelry case that was a birthday gift from my parents – it’s being stored and I’m taking to London instead a small box J. got me in Korea.  There’s enough room for my wedding rings, a few pairs of my favorite stud earrings, and a couple of pretty, shorter necklaces.  Less is more when it comes to baubles, kittens.  Also, be aware of the care and cost attached to your pretties: silver tarnishes, diamonds can pop out of their settings, and pearls require frequent wear to keep their lustre.  Take only what you know will wear and can care for.  Get rid of the cheap stuff (you can always buy more costume jewelry) and properly account for the good stuff.

Electronics
Make common sense decisions.  That desktop computer isn’t fitting in your luggage, make arrangements to store it, or sell it (after having it professionally wiped of all personal information!).  If you’re a smart cookie, which you are of course, you could trade it in for credit on a laptop that is move friendly or store credit for something else you may want.  Do you have old phones that you have long since forgotten in your many upgrades?  Give them to younger siblings (hi again, Snickers), friends, or recycle them properly – you can find drop boxes at most tech stores or their customer service people can help you.  What about old mp3 players?  If they are in good shape, sell or give them to someone you really like.  Organize your music and entertainment libraries far in advance of your move.  Make decisions about your bigger items (we’re going to sell our large TV to get some extra money out of it, but we’re keeping J.’s beloved Playstation).  You’re going to have to store anything you keep, be sure that it’s something can withstand long storage periods, that won’t be obsolete by the time you get back (like certain televisions), and that – if leaving it with friends or family – that it will be properly taken care of.

There, chapter one of your primer is complete, and was it really so bad?  If it was, sorry, we at Small Dog are all about tough love.  Have some more chocolate.  Next step, your closet.

Grad School, Humor, London, Travel

Everything Must Go. Seriously.

“Sometimes you’ve got to let everything go, purge yourself.”
– Tina Turner

Today we are going to cover the slash-and-burn, take no prisoners, everything must go mentality that comes with going to university in a foreign country.  It’s not unlike dying, kittens, as “you can’t take it with you.”  Which means you’re going to have to pawn, sell, trade, donate, lend, dump, or burn all of that “it” and it’s good to have a plan.

I’ve written before of the Great Purge that preceded each of our family jaunts here, and that’s a good starting point, but the crucial difference for me is that this time there isn’t a poly-government organization, private company, or even a well meaning stranger paying for us to up sticks.  This is all on us, and it’s going to be a meticulous, if bare bones operation.

Pictured: the exact opposite of what you want to achieve.

When prepping for a cross continental hop, the clued up traveler (that’s you, ducklings) sits down with their roommate, travel buddy, or significant other months in advance and has a conversation.  This conversation covers the Big Items about which major decisions will have to be made.  Cars, if they are to be kept, must be stored and insurance must still be paid on them in some cases, therefore arrangements must be made.  Furniture must either be sold, given to friends, or set on fire in the backyard for toasting marshmallows during your farewell bash.  Electronics and appliances are the same (not for burning obviously, you minions are awfully immature).  Decisions about what to do with the majority of the things that make up your household need to be made weeks, if not months in advance, not just before you head to the airport.

Example, we’ve decided to store the car at my parents’ house.  If we end up staying in the UK longer than anticipated, we can always sell it for extra funds and if we come back to the US, we have a car ready and waiting for us.  The furniture on the other hand?  That’s going.  It’s either purchased from Craigslist or Ikea so we’re not particularly attached to it and it’s still in good enough shape to be of use to another pair of starving newlyweds.

What do you mean we're not taking the immersion blender?!

After those are out of the way, you get to the funny items.  My parents bought us a lovely bright red Kitchen Aid as a wedding present that will be sold only over my dead body.  J. says ditto on (of all things) a very nice waffle iron.  We have a truly glorious set of pots and pans that we are prepared to go Gollum over if anyone suggests getting rid of them (the precious…).  We’re keeping the playstation, but not the large TV.  The dual DVD and VCR (because I have one or two treasured tapes from childhood, and I’m not ashamed to admit it) stays but almost all of the kitchen appliances go.

The point?  Be ruthless and be honest.  Know what is worth keeping and what you can sell without pang that will give you a little extra money to work/play with.  Most of our household items are newlywed quality stuff bought on a newlywed budget – ergo they’re decent, but selling or even giving some of it away doesn’t hurt us, personally or financially.  We won’t have to find storage for it, manage it, or worry about it.  Less really is more.

Personal items, now, that’s where it can get traumatizing.  I’ll give you a bit of time to recover, my fragile little darlings, before cracking that particular whip over your head.  Next time…

Grad School, Humor, London, Travel

Home is Where…Actually, I’ve No Idea

“‘Oh Brancepeth,’ said the girl, her voice trembling, ‘why haven’t you any money? If only you had the merest pittance – enough for a flat in Mayfair and a little weekend place in the country somewhere and a couple of good cars and a villa in the South of France and a bit of trout fishing on some decent river, I would risk all for love.'”
– P.G. Wodehouse

Dear University,

Hi!  You may remember us, we’re the couple that applied for housing nearly two months ago.

You’re holding up paperwork by not making any decisions and I’m getting a bit annoyed.  My left eyebrow has risen twice, when you have moved back announcement dates on two separate occasions.  I understand that you don’t realize how dreadful a thing the raised left eyebrow of C. Small Dog is, but let me just say it hasn’t happened twice since a nosy woman in the parish asked when J. and I are going to get around to reproducing.  My response has gone down in parish legend and she slunk off, never to be seen or heard from since.

Where's this? Brixton?! Ah, drat...we'll take it...

I’ve lived in London, dear Housing People, and am actually very good at getting around it.  I honestly don’t have any preference if it’s in Camden or Westminster – I’ve haunted both extensively – I just would like somewhere to live, please.  If the former, I will wander the market every weekend.  If the later, I will practically live at my favorite cheese shop in Covent Garden and drag J. to shows in the West End (thank you, student discounts) at every opportunity.  We will be busy with school and blissfully thrilled to be there.

But at this point, I would be blissfully thrilled to have a cardboard box to sleep in, as long as it has an address I can put on our visa applications.  I’m not from the UK anymore, my family no longer lives in Cambridgeshire and we can’t crash with them while we wait for any flat at all between Battersea and Islington to make itself available.

Please make decisions and offers in the near future.  My metaphoric nails have been gnawed to the wrist.

Yours with – Diminishing – Love,
C.

Fashion, Grad School, Humor, London, Travel

Style Theory and the Modern International

“‘Style’ is an expression of individualism mixed with charisma. Fashion is something that comes after style.”
– John Fairchild

Some will tell you that a move is the perfect time to try on a new persona, change your attitude, adopt a new style, etc.  And they are right, theoretically.  As someone who has meandered across four continents, moving once every couple of years, with ample opportunities to try on very different demeanors and looks, I can vouch you can change your style.  But I can also vouch that it can be expensive, tiring, and a lot of times futile, as lots of us inevitably go back to our old ways.  Here is the true secret to changing/staying true to your style: it has next to nothing to do with how you look.

That’s right, dumplings.  As cliche as it is, your style is all about you, not what you wear.

I sense you nodding along sagely, but wondering at the back of you minds, “Why bring this up, and what does this have to do with moving to Merrie Olde Englande?”  The answer is because I can’t count the number of friends, acquaintances, and fellow travelers I’ve known who think that a big trip or continental move is just one excuse to try on a new persona.  More specifically, that it’s an excuse to buy lots of stuff.  It’s not.

Back, you snarling shopaholics!

Whoa!  Down, minions!  Yes, there will be shopping, I promise, but all in due course, alright?  But the truth is, if you are traveling/moving and you want to do it in a savvy manner, there’s a lot to do before you whip out your credit cards with a maniacal look in your eyes.  Trust me.

So, why discuss style when we’re talking about living out of two suitcases for a year?  Because you will eventually have to shop and the first stop is your own closet.  The best place to start when figuring out what you will need in those suitcases it to sort out what you already have.  Clothes aren’t just a frivolity, they are important and especially so when traveling.  You are going to have to balance cost, care, wear, personal taste, needs, and functionality.  It’s as delicate an act as chemistry equations, and it all starts with your own personal style.

Leave the gun, take the cannoli.

Which is why I reiterate, style is about you and what you’ve already got.  When you are packing for a trip/move, or even if you just want to mix things up in your closet for a change, be honest with and about yourself.  Stock up on and pack what you know you like and will wear, and allow yourself only one or two flirtations with something new and exciting.  If you’re not a femme fatale, all those cocktail dresses might languish in your closet and you will shake your fist at the sky for having failed to pack jeans.  If you long to be a dapper Brit but are hopelessly, helplessly a true blue American lad, that straw boater hat and striped blazer will become a source of shame instead of pride.  It doesn’t matter what you pack, if the looks aren’t to your taste, aren’t comfortable, and don’t make you feel good (which you should on a trip or move to a fabulous new place!), you’re going to have spent a lot of money on a new personality that you will never wear, just like those new duds.

“To thine own self be true,” and all that.  I am a pretty conservative dresser.  Not a lot of sequins (except at New Year), not a lot of skin, and not a lot of bling.  My closet is full of skinny twill pants, solid color knit shirts, stud earrings, and low heeled riding boots.  I have a no bangles, no floppy hats, no bohemian dresses, and very little that is “of the moment,” sartorially speaking.  So, when I’m putting together my two suitcases to get me through a year, I’m going to be taking my tried and true looks that suit me and make me feel comfortable and classy.

Because, and this is key, darlings, style is in your head, not what’s on your carcass.  No one has ever – in spite of my boring and conservative wardrobe – accused me of being a boring or conservative person!

Lest you think this post was needlessly sappy, let me just say that I’m being especially supportive and nice because the next step might be painful.  Excruciating.  Weeping, gnashing of teeth, and sackcloth horrid.  Because once you’ve mastered Style Theory, and the Cardinal Rule of Packing, we’re purging your closet.  And.  I.  Am.  Ruthless.