the Montague and Pike

My feet are still sore.

I went out last night with Kelly to celebrate her birthday with her ‘work’ crowd. She’s going to school right now to work on her personal trainer certificates and last night was the party with all the people she goes to class with. For a group of health conscious workout people they sure can drink! It was great!

I took the tube downtown to meet Kelly at the bar. Her directions were “get off at Picadilly Circus, go out the left exit, walk across the square, and it’s on your left”… Simple, right? I’m fairly good with directions and finding my way around so I thought I could handle it, no problem. Wrong.

First off, there were 5 exits and the were in a big circle… so the left most was a matter of interpretation depending on where you stood… when I finally picked one and got to the surface I was expecting a ‘square’… some sort of park or paved area that was roughly square shaped. Again, Wrong. I was in the middle of downtown London… towering old buildings, lights, noise, cars, theatres, bars, restaurants, and rain… in short, madness. I did manage to find the place, after quite a bit of walking, confused phone calls, and asking many many MANY people for directions to a place most of them hadn’t heard of.

“Random bar in downtown London? Oh, you mean the needle in that haystack over there?” Right.

It was totally worth it though… I had SO much fun. I’ve found my UK drink of choice… I order “Fosters topped”… it’s a pint of Fosters with lemonade in it… odd, yes, but quite tasty. Kelly is a big fan of Jager-bombs… which is fine by me… and everyone I met was fun and interesting to talk to. Of course, now that I’m the ‘token America’ I spend a majority of every conversation asking the person to repeat themselves and then trying to work out what the British slang means. I’ve already discovered some big definition differences… Here’s my quick and dirty slang survival guide:

Cheers = Thank you

Pissed = drunk

Wee = pee

Loo = bathroom

Barney Rubble = trouble

Bitching = talking shit about someone

Talking shit = bitching and complaining

Taking the piss out of someone = making fun of someone

Jog on = fuck off

There’s more… much more… but it isn’t coming to me right now. It’s funny, but I’ve already adopted some of their slang… I only really use it when I’m talking with them… but I’m catching on quick. At least I like to think so.

Oh yeah… one more difference of note. Here in England, people LOVE to dance… and they don’t care who’s watching, how they look, or what other’s think… everyone just dances their little tushies off, and has a good time with it. I absolutely LOVE it… I love to dance but in the clubs in the states it seems like there’s so much posturing. People are afraid to dance unless they’re truly trashed because they’re afraid of how they will look… Here, nobody gives a shit. It’s like everyone is in their bedroom infront of the mirror with their favorite song on the radio. Awesomeness.

Anyhow, the night was great. I had a few drinks… some great conversation… a healthy dose of the dance floor… and a brisk walk home in heels to cap off the night. I wore heeled boots all night… didn’t take them off once… kudos to me. ;)

As much fun as I had, it is still a little rough at times. Drinking opens me up a little emotionally and, as much fun as I was having, I was reminded often of home and my friends that I miss so much. In an alcohol induced haze it’s easy to forget where you are.. and then to remember where you aren’t and who you aren’t with. There were a few times I wished I could turn to one of my friends back home to point something out or share an inside joke. When I have fun I think of the people I have had the most fun with… and that makes it a little rough too. I’m getting good at getting over the wave of sadness pretty quickly, but it’s still there and I think it will be, to some degree, for a long time.

Tonight is going to be a new night. Kelly promises this will be the ‘big’ party… I’m spending more than I want to… but it’s so nice to do something besides sit at home and watch crappy American reruns on crappy British tv. Maybe I’ll make some new friends too, so I won’t be driving Kelly insane all the time. ;)

“I’ll have a Foster’s top. Cheers.”

communicating

So… I did some thinking today. Well… today and every day really… but I think I was finally able to intelligently articulate my thoughts for the first time today (talking to Dexter really has helped). I figured out one of the things that has been bothering me so much about talking to people back home. Part of it came from expressive emails with Justin… part from a goofy email from Molly… part from a chipper email from Ryan… part from a standard email from Dad. I realized what it is I missing in my life right now that is making dealing with this transition so much more difficult… something I’m getting from my family and I’m not getting from my friends.

Normalcy.

I don’t know if it’s due to the fact that I’ve grown up with travel and distance in my family. Molly’s lived in Japan… Dad’s living in, well, wherever right now… Tim’s on deployment in Japan (or somewhere near that)… we’ve always traveled and explored and Dad was always so good at encouraging us to pursue whatever adventure lay infront of us. And I think, growing up with that mentality… and the especially the experiences myself and my family has all had as adults with our travel and distance… we know how to live normally… how to communicate normally… in a circumstance that most people don’t consider normal. Distance. It’s not about pretending like nothing is wrong… it’s about the fact that nothing truly is wrong. Physical distance sucks… yes… but it has nothing to do with emotional distance… nothing to do with communication… unless you allow it too. I can tell my family what is great, and what sucks… everything big and little. And they’ll accept it and give me the same right back… from something as large as loneliness to something as menial as whether my sister should get a new hairstyle or not (I still say go for it Mol)… I can talk about how I feel… and not feel bad about the rawness of it… not feel bad about the fact I didn’t sugar coat it to make it easier to swallow. That’s what makes the communication real…genuine… and comforting.

I know how much my friends love me… I know how much they are trying to put on a happy face to make me feel better. In their own way they are doing exactly what they think will make me feel better and happier and ultimately transition easier. I guess if I was brought up differently it would work… I’m a believer in “fake it ‘till you make it” in most aspects of life… but not here. Not with relationships and communications and trust and love. Raw and real is the only way… for me, I guess. I like to think I know the people I love the most well enough to tell when they’re hurting and upset… and when they’re happy and excited. And when I feel like whatever they’re giving me isn’t a part of that, it eats me a little inside.

At first, I took it the WAY wrong way. Everytime I talked to my friends everything seemed perfect and happy… smiles and laughs all around. I knew most of this was to make me feel good and to distract me from my own unhappiness. But after a while I started to doubt myself. I thought “Maybe this is really how they feel.. maybe they are always happy and laughing and chipper”… then I did the WAY wrong thing and took it personally… “They seem so much happier now that I’m gone. Happy all the time. Maybe it’s a good thing I left… like it’s what they’ve been waiting for.” Dumb… I know… but that’s the truth of it. If all you see is sunshine and rainbows you forget that there are clouds and rain first. Even if you know they’re there… when you don’t see them, it’s easy to forget. I never saw my friends missing me… I heard it in a detached sort-of “since you mentioned it” way… but never saw the hurt on their faces. I know this is because they were trying to spare me… in truth, they were all being soldiers (much stronger and better actors than I could ever conceivably be). It amazes me even now that they were able to put on a happy face in spite of the sadness and pain. They didn’t want to be sad because they didn’t want to see ME sad… but it kindof worked the opposite way… and I started to believe the act rather than understand it for what it was.

Anyhow… I see it now… at least I think so. Even as I say that there are still small doubts wriggling in my mind. The devlish whispers that say “No, they don’t miss you. They aren’t hurting. It doesn’t matter to them as much as it matters to you.” But I have to ignore those voices. I have to recognize how selfish they are… and I have to believe that I know the people I love as well as I think I do. And while I now see and appreciate their efforts all that much more (I’ll never understand how you guys could do it), I have to figure out a way to explain that normal, honest communication is more productive. Even if it’s hard to say “I miss you” at least it’s true… and at least it’s a problem you can face together. “Yeah, I miss you too. Distance sucks. So what did you have for dinner?”

I don’t think major transitions will ever be ‘easy’. BUT, I think that’s the point. I think the reason that something like this is so exciting, is BECAUSE it’s hard… BECAUSE it’s a challenge…. BECAUSE it’s something that most people will never have the guts to do themselves. It all goes back to that classic saying… “If it’s worth having, it’s worth working for” This is a difficult change… but an adventure that will be all the more rewarding BECAUSE of the challenge. (or at least that’s what I’m telling myself right now) If it was easy, everyone would do it, right? And my friendships… my relationships with the people I love? Just like muscles, they will become stronger by being tested.

I’m doing this for me… but there are rewards for everyone if they just know where to look. By becoming a better person I can help make the people around me better… I want to be constantly challenged by the people I love. I want to be pushed… everyday… to become a better person. And I want to give that same challenge to those around me. They weren’t lying in that movie. “You make me want to be a better man,” is probably one of the best compliments I can imagine… and what a goal, right?

Well… I’m testing myself… I’ve thrown myself into the ‘fire’ (emotionally at least)… but it’s to make sure that I’m worthy. To make myself a better woman. Here we go… right?

Materialistic

Another day… but finally a really good, eventful, positive step in the right direction. ;)

I GOT MY STUFF TODAY… TMO finally came through and all of my household goods… my worldly possessions… were delivered to my doorstep. Maybe it’s a little materialistic of me to put so much value into my stuff, but it is so nice to finally have a home… a house filled with things of familiarity… rather than just a pretty shell to live in.

I’m not going to lie… things are in quite a state of disorder right now. The movers didn’t have the right tool box with them so we had to dig through my stuff looking for my tools for a while (I didn’t know where they were packed since I didn’t pack my own stuff). We were literally opening whatever box was closest and rifling through it… half the stuff dumped onto the floor… just enough to see if the box had the tools we were looking for or not. We never did find what we were looking for and had to improvise from the limited selection they had. And I did eventually find my tools… packed between the cups and the wine glasses (don’t ask me how or why they ended up there). I successfully unpacked all of my kitchen goods and started putting everything in it’s new place. The set up here is different, so there is some stuff I will end up putting in storage (like my wine shelf)… and thanks to UK power plugs being different from US, I’m probably won’t get much use out of other stuff like my lamps and vacuum and hairdryer, etc. I got 2 power transformers from base, but they’re old, big, and heavy, and the plugs are set low on the box so I can’t use some of my US stuff anyway. I’m sure the whole process will take a long time… the unpacking, moving around, making this strange house feel like home. But it’s something to do and it’s productive so I’m excited (or at least pretending to be).

One thing I have noticed… I’m not sure if it’s just this place, or if it’s cultural or what… but storage doesn’t seem to be a priority here. At least not practical storage, anyway. For example: my kitchen has lots of cabinet space and large pull out drawers for storage, spare counter space and extra plugs for small kitchen appliances… but no small drawers. No silverware drawer, no junk drawer, only cabinets and cupboard drawers. Weird. Hopefully I can find some way to store my silverware and kitchen utensils upright to make better use of the space, but as is I just find it weird and another odd thing I have to find a way around. Another thing… I have three awesome bathrooms… but each bathroom has a toilet, pedestal sink, and bathing facility (tub or shower)… that’s it. NO STORAGE. There are no linen closets, no medicine cabinets, no under-sink storage, no counters… nothing. Where do I put my toothbrush and toothpaste? Handsoap? Where do I put my nail clippers, hair stuff, makeup, extra toilet paper, plunger, and other random bathroom stuff? Where do I put my spare towels, washcloths, extra sheets and blankets and pillows? Also… each bathroom has a nice heated towel rack… but they’re all single size, as in, big enough for one towel. It’s nice to have a heated towel rack, but what do I do if I want to hang up 2 towels? What if I have a guest? Where do they hang their towel? I don’t know… again… all workable issues and if those are my biggest problems then I don’t really have much to complain about… but still… it’s the little things I suppose.

Anyway… Kelly came over tonight… That was nice. ;)

I think I may be losing some of my social skills… at least with any living bipedal. Kelly and I were watching TV and I only realized I was playing with and talking to Dexter (the dog) when Kelly looked up and said “You’ve really lost it now, haven’t you?” I guess when you spend so much time with a puppy as your only company you adapt. I feel like Tom Hanks and his volleyball Wilson… only on a smaller and slightly MORE sane scale. I DO talk to Dexter a lot though… I cuddle him and ask him questions and talk to him while I’m doing stuff around the house… he follows me everywhere and is probably more clingy than I should allow… but I like that he needs me as much as I need him. If I stand too long in one place he lays down my feet… if I sit on the couch he tries to climb in my lap and if I don’t allow it he’ll lick my toes or rub my legs until I relent. Even if I get off the couch to go to the refrigerator or sink, he’ll follow me and lay next to me… every time I move he moves… he’s the picture of a little puppy who just loves his mommy. Awwwww…. ;’)

Anyway… back to Kelly… it was really nice to have some human company. She is awesome and I couldn’t have asked for a better ‘first friend’ here. She guides me away from things she knows will make me cry… I’m not allowed to say the “J” word… and the “M” and “R” words are off limits now too… (sorry guys) I’m only allowed to look at pictures when I show them to her and then only one time through… no repeats. And if I linger too long she changes the subject and tries her darndest to distract me. She text messages me every day… even on her own birthday… and invited me out Friday and Saturday. Last Sunday, we went out to watch the football games, and I got really drunk really quick (when you don’t drink for a month or so the first time back catches up really quick). Anyway… she listened and comforted me when I cried at the pub (what a loser, I know)…she retrieved my phone when I left it at the first pub and brought it back to me… ordered pizza and made sure I ate… and all but tucked me in before leaving (even though she was pretty drunk herself). I dunno… She’s awesome… and I’m looking forward to Friday and Saturday.

Tomorrow is a bit more unpacking… taking Dexter to the vet… and meeting Kelly for a Friday evening out. And Monday… back to work. Man… it’s been a long time since I’ve done that. ;)

an attempt

I'll give it a try... this blogging bit. I want to write personal emails to everyone important to me to tell them how I'm doing... what daily adventure (or misadventure as the case may be) I've had. But I don't have the time... or really the endurance... to do so on a regular enough basis.

I'm sitting in a Starbucks in Harrow... it's about a 7 minute walk from my very large, very empty home... but with the rain and cold it can feel like it's considerably longer. Internet is about $8 an hour... and that's pretty standard in this area of the UK. I don't know what it is these people have against cheap wireless internet, but it doesn't exist here.
I had planned on making this trip yesterday, for various reasons. I never thought I was one of those people 'dependent' on technology, but I guess I didn't realize how much of my life is governed over the internet. Especially so now that I'm thousands of miles and a few time zones away from what I'm used to. It took me 40 minutes just to catch up on my banking, new bills, and work and move related emails today. I've already had to shell out another $8 just to scratch the surface of my personal emails and any other internet pursuits that aren't work or money related (downloads, myspace, etc). Anyhow, as I said I meant to do this yesterday, but the TMO office told me my household goods would be delivered yesterday "sometime between 8am and 5pm" and if I wasn't home when they arrived I would be charged for the delivery and have to pay to arrange another. I sat my lonesome butt in my house all day, tried (in vain) to contact the TMO office to confirm the delivery, and 3 messages and 9 hours later figured out they weren't coming. I finally got ahold of the office today and was told I can expect my delivery on Thursday. Here's to holding my breath for that one.
I played with Dexter all day yesterday, walked him around outside the house (I live about 30 seconds away from a pub and a park) and generally spoiled him. So, it would only suit what I had waiting for me that evening when I returned from a short trip to the gym. Not only had he had 2 separate poop 'accidents' and multiple 'wee' accidents (as Kelly calls them)... but he had at some point layed down in his own feces and tracked it all around the living room and kitchen as he meandered about while I was gone. He had also somehow managed to climb up onto the kitchen counter and knock over the oil air freshener I bought and eat the remaining 'chips' (french frys) Kelly had ordered on Sunday. Let me tell you what kind of fun THAT was to clean up. I don't get it... he KNOWS to go potty outside... he'll stand infront of the door about 80% of the time when he has to go... when I let him out and tell him to "go potty" he dutifully squats and drains whatever small amount may be in his bladder... but when I'm gone all the rules go out the door with me, apparently. I can't wait to see what surprises he has in store for me when I return from this trip. ;)
I'm supposed to be going back to work next week. I had hoped for this week, but I still haven't gotten my goods and they said I don't have to work until I've gotten 'settled', whatever that means. I'm looking forward to getting my stuff, and the time it'll occupy unpacking and turning the shell of a house I'm living in right now into something more resembling a 'home'. I can't wait to have pots and pans and to actually cook a decent meal for myself.
At the risk of having to spend another $8 to post this, I'll call this the end to my first official blog.
Take care everyone... write to me if and when you get a chance.