Wow, it's been a seriously long time since I've last updated my blog. Facebook is certainly taken over this little blogs role in my life, except I find myself reliving my life as status updates and photos rather than a personal retelling of what's going on. I'll try and rectify that with a little post here.
Since my last post, I've gone to London and visited with two friends I met in Italy in 2004, I've done a 10 mile hike up a steep hill in the cold, wind, fog, and rain, I've visited two ruined abbeys (thanks to Henry VIII for those), a quaint seaside town, and driven my beloved Bug several times with the top down. I found our second trip to London a little anti-climactic, the hike more difficult than I anticipated, the seaside town almost identical to American seaside towns, except replace your pizza joints with fish-n-chips spots, and the ruins of abbeys to be haunting and cool.
On a more daily basis, I guess one would say I'm surviving, but not thriving. Oh I love the travel opportunities and have built a small social life, don't get me wrong. I just don't feel I have any purpose here. Hopefully things will be more personally fulfilling when I start another Masters degree program this fall, but until then I'll just concentrate on all the little things that need doing. My grandmother and DH's grandmother are coming to visit us for two weeks in May, and that's going to require
a considerable amount of preparation and planning. DH and I would also like to move to a different house this summer when our lease for this place is up - so there's house hunting and moving plans to make.
Still, when DH and I talk about going "home" it's something that I am keenly looking forward to, even though I don't think we quite know where "home" is. We'll have had strangers living in our DC house for at least two years, probably not caring for it as if it were their own. It's going to be so strange to return to that house - if we even do - knowing that others were washing their dishes in our dishwasher, showering in our bathroom, and letting their dog poo on our lawn (hopefully that's the only place it goes!). We've long talked about selling the house anyway; it's really too big for the two of us. So, in some ways, I don't feel like I have a "home" in DC to return to.
By the same token, I don't feel like Harrogate is "home." It is a temporary situation, and mentally I can't think of it any other way but temporary, which probably makes life more difficult and easier to deal with at the same time. Again, things may (hopefully will) change when I start school in the fall, but I just don't have any personal investment - emotional or otherwise - in our life here. It's an extended vacation from our "real life."
A lot of people struggle being expats because of how "different" things are (early shop closing hours, social structures, daily routines, etc). I find that element of living abroad quite easy to deal with. It's more the difference in my role - or rather the absence of a "role" - that I'm struggling with. People throw suggestions like "volunteer" or "get a job", and I've certainly looked around to try and get into those types of activities. But again, it's a question of personal investment. Back in the States I was very invested in my career, and found where I thought I was heading very personally and professionally fulfilling. There's simply nothing comparable open to me here; the exception being this degree program I'm going to pursue.
Is it possible to temporarily redefine oneself? Temporarily excuse yourself from where you really want to go in order to find another path to happiness, knowing all the while you fully intend to return to your original path? With the clock ticking all the time (two years and two months) down to when we plan to return, it's a difficult mental exercise to perform.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
St Patrick's Day / Weekend in Dublin
There comes a point in most everyone's lives when they realize that they are no longer "young." It doesn't necessarily mean that they are "old," or that they will not inevitably revert back to being "young" on the odd occasion, but what does happen is that the lens through which certain events are viewed is irrevocably changed.
I am no longer young.
DH and I spent St Patrick's Day in Dublin, which sounds to most people like an absolute dream. I'm going to assume that it is only because most people have not been to Dublin on St Patrick's Day. The analogies I've heard/made are that is it basically an Irish Mardi Gras, or an international Frat party, and both of those are apt. I think that the thing that disappointed me most of all is that people think that they'd like to be in Dublin because of the intrinsic Irishness of the holiday, and that being in Dublin would somehow bring that to the fore. But in reality, at least from what I saw, Irishness is reduced to an unflattering caricature drawn by the non-Irish, and being in Dublin for St Patrick's Day is no different than being anywhere else in the world, and indeed perhaps even worse for the expectations.
I found Dublin to be a really tough city to figure out. There are some things that we really, really loved. The parks are gorgeous and inviting and the people are quite friendly. And maybe because it was St Patrick's Day, or maybe not, I just couldn't figure out what Dublin was about. The city reflects this kind of uncertainty about its identity, I think. There are vacant lots and ancient hovels and tenements standing next to gorgeous new modern glass and steel buildings, as if they were trying to build a new identity that overshadowed the old without really dealing with the past.
DH and I arrived on Saturday and had a low-key kind of day, meeting up with some friends who were already in the city for a short while, walking around a couple of parks and whatnot, just trying to soak in the atmosphere and get a little oriented. That night, the hotel's bar turned into a nightclub open until 3am, which basically prevented me from falling asleep until 330am. Not a happy camper. We ended up changing hotels in the end.
Sunday we did our major "sightseeing," making our way to the Guinness factory, Kilmainham Gaol, St Patricks and Christ Churches, etc. It was Sunday that we started realizing how weird Dublin is... the Guinness tour was self guided, flashy and basically interesting, but still felt a little haphazard and thrown together, like they ran out of information but still had a couple of floors on the building to fill. The Gaol too, was poorly organized for tourists, with tours that filled quickly and seemingly no way to pre-book the (required) guided tour in advance, which forced folks to go WAY out of their way twice (once to book the tour, and once to take it). Our guide was earnest, but the information ended up being muddled, the history and significance of the place in the end was not clear. Is it a symbol of British repression? Does it memorialize the martyrdom of those who fought for an independent republic?
In a way, it's funny that Monday was, for me, all about finding out my identity, in a city that seemed not to know itself. I visited the National Archives to find the only surviving census documents recording my maternal grandmother's father's family presence in Northern Ireland and I visited the General Registry Office to get copies of the registers of my great-grandfather's birth and his parents' marriage. It was an interesting exercise, to say the least, and definitely has me wanting to learn more.
Tuesday, St Patrick's Day, was the most ridiculous day of them all. DH and I stood for nearly 4 hours to wait and watch the St Patrick's Day parade, which was without a doubt the most bizarre display I've ever seen. Again, like I felt most of the weekend, I was left thinking "I don't get it." We visited Christ Church, a mish-mosh of time periods encapsulated in this single space (from Viking-era crpyts, medieval tombs, Dark ages architecture and 16th and 19th century renovations). We ate lunch in St Stephens Green, surrounded by those too young to get into pubs and families with young children (everyone else, we presume, was in a pub drinking). That night we did venture into the Temple Bar district (think Bourbon Street in New Orleans during Mardi Gras) and carefully stepped our way around broken glass, urine, and vomit to a pub for a pint, and then to a traditional Irish restaurant for dinner.
The whole experience was truly mind-boggling, and I think that if I lived in Dublin, I'd high-tail it out of town during St Patrick's Day. From what we could see on the news and in a couple of small circulars around, there were serious Irish cultural events going on as part of the celebration, but those were utterly and completely drowned out by the drunken frat boy mayhem that visitors brought with them. The presence of so many foreigners, there for seemingly the singular purpose of getting as drunk as possible, makes it really tough for me to figure out what Dublin might be like without them. I'd like to find out, but I wonder if the Dubliners themselves aren't even sure.
Pictures are here and here, and you don't need to have a Facebook account to view them.
I am no longer young.
DH and I spent St Patrick's Day in Dublin, which sounds to most people like an absolute dream. I'm going to assume that it is only because most people have not been to Dublin on St Patrick's Day. The analogies I've heard/made are that is it basically an Irish Mardi Gras, or an international Frat party, and both of those are apt. I think that the thing that disappointed me most of all is that people think that they'd like to be in Dublin because of the intrinsic Irishness of the holiday, and that being in Dublin would somehow bring that to the fore. But in reality, at least from what I saw, Irishness is reduced to an unflattering caricature drawn by the non-Irish, and being in Dublin for St Patrick's Day is no different than being anywhere else in the world, and indeed perhaps even worse for the expectations.
I found Dublin to be a really tough city to figure out. There are some things that we really, really loved. The parks are gorgeous and inviting and the people are quite friendly. And maybe because it was St Patrick's Day, or maybe not, I just couldn't figure out what Dublin was about. The city reflects this kind of uncertainty about its identity, I think. There are vacant lots and ancient hovels and tenements standing next to gorgeous new modern glass and steel buildings, as if they were trying to build a new identity that overshadowed the old without really dealing with the past.
DH and I arrived on Saturday and had a low-key kind of day, meeting up with some friends who were already in the city for a short while, walking around a couple of parks and whatnot, just trying to soak in the atmosphere and get a little oriented. That night, the hotel's bar turned into a nightclub open until 3am, which basically prevented me from falling asleep until 330am. Not a happy camper. We ended up changing hotels in the end.
Sunday we did our major "sightseeing," making our way to the Guinness factory, Kilmainham Gaol, St Patricks and Christ Churches, etc. It was Sunday that we started realizing how weird Dublin is... the Guinness tour was self guided, flashy and basically interesting, but still felt a little haphazard and thrown together, like they ran out of information but still had a couple of floors on the building to fill. The Gaol too, was poorly organized for tourists, with tours that filled quickly and seemingly no way to pre-book the (required) guided tour in advance, which forced folks to go WAY out of their way twice (once to book the tour, and once to take it). Our guide was earnest, but the information ended up being muddled, the history and significance of the place in the end was not clear. Is it a symbol of British repression? Does it memorialize the martyrdom of those who fought for an independent republic?
In a way, it's funny that Monday was, for me, all about finding out my identity, in a city that seemed not to know itself. I visited the National Archives to find the only surviving census documents recording my maternal grandmother's father's family presence in Northern Ireland and I visited the General Registry Office to get copies of the registers of my great-grandfather's birth and his parents' marriage. It was an interesting exercise, to say the least, and definitely has me wanting to learn more.
Tuesday, St Patrick's Day, was the most ridiculous day of them all. DH and I stood for nearly 4 hours to wait and watch the St Patrick's Day parade, which was without a doubt the most bizarre display I've ever seen. Again, like I felt most of the weekend, I was left thinking "I don't get it." We visited Christ Church, a mish-mosh of time periods encapsulated in this single space (from Viking-era crpyts, medieval tombs, Dark ages architecture and 16th and 19th century renovations). We ate lunch in St Stephens Green, surrounded by those too young to get into pubs and families with young children (everyone else, we presume, was in a pub drinking). That night we did venture into the Temple Bar district (think Bourbon Street in New Orleans during Mardi Gras) and carefully stepped our way around broken glass, urine, and vomit to a pub for a pint, and then to a traditional Irish restaurant for dinner.
The whole experience was truly mind-boggling, and I think that if I lived in Dublin, I'd high-tail it out of town during St Patrick's Day. From what we could see on the news and in a couple of small circulars around, there were serious Irish cultural events going on as part of the celebration, but those were utterly and completely drowned out by the drunken frat boy mayhem that visitors brought with them. The presence of so many foreigners, there for seemingly the singular purpose of getting as drunk as possible, makes it really tough for me to figure out what Dublin might be like without them. I'd like to find out, but I wonder if the Dubliners themselves aren't even sure.
Pictures are here and here, and you don't need to have a Facebook account to view them.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Love your cat(s)/dog(s) a little bit extra today
My dear friend CCHarmony had to put her beloved Pepper to sleep last night. Pepper was a good dog - 15 years old! - and had been suffering from kidney disease for just about a year.
I'm devastated for her, because I can only imagine how sad it must be to put down a pet. So today, in memory of Pepper, my kitties are getting extra doses of love and hugs.
They, however, are not really that into it.
Eliza getting her extra dose of love... and desperate to get away from it!
Henry getting his extra dose of love... and just barely tolerating it.
So give your furry friend a little love today in memory of Pepper!
I'm devastated for her, because I can only imagine how sad it must be to put down a pet. So today, in memory of Pepper, my kitties are getting extra doses of love and hugs.
They, however, are not really that into it.
Eliza getting her extra dose of love... and desperate to get away from it!
Henry getting his extra dose of love... and just barely tolerating it.
So give your furry friend a little love today in memory of Pepper!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Americans in Paris... in photos!
Americans in Paris... Day 3 Recap
Ugh. Another morning, another late-ish start. We had an imposing schedule planned - Notre Dame, Saint Chappelle, the Louvre, and the Eiffel Tower. We only ended up doing two of those things in the end.
We set out on foot in the direction of Notre Dame. This may have been one of our big mistakes, in retrospect. Looking at a map, things look fairly close together and you think you'll be stopping at a cafe or a boulangerie for some coffee and croissants so the walk should be no big deal. Well, when it's spritzing rain and you feel like you can't find a cafe or bakery to save your life, it's a very, very long walk indeed. we did find a little cafe around the corner from the National Assembly where we had a nice coffee, and did find a bakery with some croissants and pain au chocolat, but it just never felt as easy as it should have been. I don't know how to describe it and maybe we had bad luck by happening to walk on one street versus another (even though we tried to pop up or down a block or two when we seemed to be in a deserted area), but it was just a frustrating pain in the butt and it always seemed to happen to us.
Anyway, we made it to Notre Dame, passing a long, long line to get into Saint Chappelle (so we passed on it entirely) along the way. We toured the inside of Notre Dame, but again, the line to get up into the towers was long, and we just didn't have the spirit to deal with it in the mucky weather and spritzing rain, and with the specter of visiting the Louvre still ahead of us. So we passed.
We trudged over to the Lourve, searching for a crepe stand somewhere along the way. Again, it was one of those things that I just expected to be there... and we were walking along the Rue de Rivoli, a fairly major shopping road. We found one crepe stand, but the little hot plate wasn't working, so that was a bust. Finally, about five minutes later, we happened upon another little crepe stand and ordered two ham and cheese crepes for ourselves. Those things sat in our stomach like blocks of lead for the next couple of hours, but they gave us enough energy to get through the Louvre.
The Louvre. What can one say about it. It's immense. Imposing. Simultaneously crowded and abandoned, depending on which room you are in. We thought we were being ruthless with our itinerary - only visiting the Greek and Roman sculptures and the Italian renaissance art, but even that proved to be utterly exhausting. We did see the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa, but in the end they were completely underwhelming. And because the Louvre was so insanely huge, even the stuff that I do love (Botticellis and Lippis and Titians and Canovas and Michelanglos) just wasn't that enjoyable.
Mentally, I was comparing the Louvre to the British Museum and National Gallery in London and the Uffizzi in Florence. In my opinion, the British Museum was much better organized with respect to it's Egyptian, Greek, and Roman collections. It didn't seem as scattered and seemed to tell a story rather than just showing off what they had. Same with the National Gallery's collection of Italian Renaissance art - the rooms were smaller, allowing you to spend time with some of the paintings and really get into them, rather than feeling like you had to see everything at once. Likewise with the Uffizzi. Again, there is no shortage of amazing famous art there - but again, the rooms are smaller, attendance is tightly controlled, and I feel like you can enjoy the art rather than being shuttled quickly by it. The Louvre, to me, feels organized in such a way to keep folks moving through the huge rooms. I know that there is an entire science behind museum collections and displays, and I wonder if this comes into play with the Louvre since it is such an immense space and huge tourist destination.
Also, the Venus de Milo is not that hot. :)
Anyway, we finally escaped the madness of the Louvre, feeling like we had seen too much to process and nothing at all. We refueled with an eclair and pain au chocolat from a pastry shop, and then made our way back to the apartment for another rest before dinner. After the days events, and again with the dismal weather, we were just feeling very blah about Paris.
The evening's events redeemed Paris for us, just a little though. Dinner that night was at Au Bon Accueil, quite literally in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. We were seated next to another American couple, the ambiance was very modern romantic, and the service and food were on par with our first night's experience. My starter was octopus in a ceviche style with a tomato-like salsa. Simply out of this world. There was a lot of acid to flavor the unique texture of the octopus, and I do not think that I've ever tasted anything better. If we had stayed another night, I would have returned for the octopus alone. It was excellent. DH had a simple salad dressed with a raspberry vinaigrette, Parmigano Reggiano, and walnuts. Yummy. For dinner, I had grilled sea bream (think trout) on fennel with a side of potato puree, and DH had an incredible sirloin steak with a roasted potato pancake. DH's steak was a revelation - perfectly, perfectly cooked, and with the first bite, you expected the nice tender taste of meat (which there was) but then there was this tasty caramelized crust that took a good steak and made it transcendent. Yum, yum, yum.
For dessert we both had a molten chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream, lovely perfection. Our neighboring Americans had had the same dish (my question about it had led to us striking up a conversation throughout the rest of our dinner). All in all, our experience at dinner went a long way in redeeming our time in Paris, but the best was yet to come.
I had wanted to see the Eiffel Tower "sparkling" the entire time we were in Paris, but we never seemed to catch it, leading me to believe that the "sparkling" was just a part of the display celebrating France's presidency of the EU, which had ended a little while ago. On our walk back to the apartment that night, I caught a glimpse of the flashing reflection of the Eiffel tower in the windows the buildings lining the street. DH and I ran about 3 blocks over to the park next to the Eiffel Tower and watched the sparkling lights for nearly five minutes until they ended. We got some pictures (which I am sure won't turn out in the end) but it just seemed like the perfect ending to a much better night. We walked back to the apartment, packed up our things for our morning flight back to England the next morning, and fell dead into bed from exhaustion.
We set out on foot in the direction of Notre Dame. This may have been one of our big mistakes, in retrospect. Looking at a map, things look fairly close together and you think you'll be stopping at a cafe or a boulangerie for some coffee and croissants so the walk should be no big deal. Well, when it's spritzing rain and you feel like you can't find a cafe or bakery to save your life, it's a very, very long walk indeed. we did find a little cafe around the corner from the National Assembly where we had a nice coffee, and did find a bakery with some croissants and pain au chocolat, but it just never felt as easy as it should have been. I don't know how to describe it and maybe we had bad luck by happening to walk on one street versus another (even though we tried to pop up or down a block or two when we seemed to be in a deserted area), but it was just a frustrating pain in the butt and it always seemed to happen to us.
Anyway, we made it to Notre Dame, passing a long, long line to get into Saint Chappelle (so we passed on it entirely) along the way. We toured the inside of Notre Dame, but again, the line to get up into the towers was long, and we just didn't have the spirit to deal with it in the mucky weather and spritzing rain, and with the specter of visiting the Louvre still ahead of us. So we passed.
We trudged over to the Lourve, searching for a crepe stand somewhere along the way. Again, it was one of those things that I just expected to be there... and we were walking along the Rue de Rivoli, a fairly major shopping road. We found one crepe stand, but the little hot plate wasn't working, so that was a bust. Finally, about five minutes later, we happened upon another little crepe stand and ordered two ham and cheese crepes for ourselves. Those things sat in our stomach like blocks of lead for the next couple of hours, but they gave us enough energy to get through the Louvre.
The Louvre. What can one say about it. It's immense. Imposing. Simultaneously crowded and abandoned, depending on which room you are in. We thought we were being ruthless with our itinerary - only visiting the Greek and Roman sculptures and the Italian renaissance art, but even that proved to be utterly exhausting. We did see the Venus de Milo and the Mona Lisa, but in the end they were completely underwhelming. And because the Louvre was so insanely huge, even the stuff that I do love (Botticellis and Lippis and Titians and Canovas and Michelanglos) just wasn't that enjoyable.
Mentally, I was comparing the Louvre to the British Museum and National Gallery in London and the Uffizzi in Florence. In my opinion, the British Museum was much better organized with respect to it's Egyptian, Greek, and Roman collections. It didn't seem as scattered and seemed to tell a story rather than just showing off what they had. Same with the National Gallery's collection of Italian Renaissance art - the rooms were smaller, allowing you to spend time with some of the paintings and really get into them, rather than feeling like you had to see everything at once. Likewise with the Uffizzi. Again, there is no shortage of amazing famous art there - but again, the rooms are smaller, attendance is tightly controlled, and I feel like you can enjoy the art rather than being shuttled quickly by it. The Louvre, to me, feels organized in such a way to keep folks moving through the huge rooms. I know that there is an entire science behind museum collections and displays, and I wonder if this comes into play with the Louvre since it is such an immense space and huge tourist destination.
Also, the Venus de Milo is not that hot. :)
Anyway, we finally escaped the madness of the Louvre, feeling like we had seen too much to process and nothing at all. We refueled with an eclair and pain au chocolat from a pastry shop, and then made our way back to the apartment for another rest before dinner. After the days events, and again with the dismal weather, we were just feeling very blah about Paris.
The evening's events redeemed Paris for us, just a little though. Dinner that night was at Au Bon Accueil, quite literally in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. We were seated next to another American couple, the ambiance was very modern romantic, and the service and food were on par with our first night's experience. My starter was octopus in a ceviche style with a tomato-like salsa. Simply out of this world. There was a lot of acid to flavor the unique texture of the octopus, and I do not think that I've ever tasted anything better. If we had stayed another night, I would have returned for the octopus alone. It was excellent. DH had a simple salad dressed with a raspberry vinaigrette, Parmigano Reggiano, and walnuts. Yummy. For dinner, I had grilled sea bream (think trout) on fennel with a side of potato puree, and DH had an incredible sirloin steak with a roasted potato pancake. DH's steak was a revelation - perfectly, perfectly cooked, and with the first bite, you expected the nice tender taste of meat (which there was) but then there was this tasty caramelized crust that took a good steak and made it transcendent. Yum, yum, yum.
For dessert we both had a molten chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream, lovely perfection. Our neighboring Americans had had the same dish (my question about it had led to us striking up a conversation throughout the rest of our dinner). All in all, our experience at dinner went a long way in redeeming our time in Paris, but the best was yet to come.
I had wanted to see the Eiffel Tower "sparkling" the entire time we were in Paris, but we never seemed to catch it, leading me to believe that the "sparkling" was just a part of the display celebrating France's presidency of the EU, which had ended a little while ago. On our walk back to the apartment that night, I caught a glimpse of the flashing reflection of the Eiffel tower in the windows the buildings lining the street. DH and I ran about 3 blocks over to the park next to the Eiffel Tower and watched the sparkling lights for nearly five minutes until they ended. We got some pictures (which I am sure won't turn out in the end) but it just seemed like the perfect ending to a much better night. We walked back to the apartment, packed up our things for our morning flight back to England the next morning, and fell dead into bed from exhaustion.
Americans in Paris... Day 2 Recap
Sunday in Paris.. not much to do other than sightsee. We dragged our butts out of bed quite late Sunday morning and started going towards the Musee d'Orsay. Along the way we stopped and grabbed a couple of croissants and two cafe au laits for breakfast (although at that point it was more like a very early lunch!).
The Musee d'Orsay was a nice visit. I'm a huge fan of the Impressionists - particularly Monet and Renoir. The collection was very good, crowds were manageable, and we got to see most everything we wanted. The museum building itself was stunning. An old railway station, the openness of the central area made it feel very airy and light. All in all, I'm glad we went, but I don't think I'd visit again. I'd probably try and hit some of the smaller collections (like the one at the Orangerie, which has a huge number of Monets) next time.
After d'Orsay we set out to visit the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysee. We were also starving, and desperately looking for a small boulangerie or something that had sandwiches, or even a crepe stand. For a city that boasts that there is a bakery, a pastry shop, a cheese shop, and a cafe on every block, we had a nearly impossible time finding anything open on that Sunday. We were forced to grab a sandwich at one of the tourist traps on the Champs itself, which wasn't bad, but wasn't really great either, but at that point we had burned so many calories walking we had to make them up somehow. It was spitting rain and quite overcast, which really cast a pall on the whole day. We finally made it to the Arc de Triomphe and were shocked to see it cost more to access the top than to visit the Musee d'Orsay. We did the tourist thing... climbing to the top to overlook the Champs and all the traffic in the Place de Charles de Gaulle Etoile below us. Our view over the city was really marred by the weather; Sacre Couer was barely visible in the distance. We climbed down and made our way back to our apartment for a much needed rest before heading out to what turned out to be the most disappointing meal of our trip.
That night we ate at La Fontaine de Mars - steps away from Cafe Constant where we had had such a good meal the night before, and recommended as a good Sunday night choice by several travel boards. Unfortunately, it wasn't our cup of tea. Our waiter seemed to be that famous Parisian waiter of lore, dismissive and snooty and barely there. We were handed English menus without a question, and the service felt more American (was he trying to flip the table?) than French. The two highlights were DH's starter - an absolutely lovely langostine bisque - and the bottle of Sancerre I ordered after being introduced to the yummy white the night before. Even these two highlights were diminished by the waiter bringing us the wrong bottle of wine at first ("whoops!" he said after I said "Sancerre?" as he was tearing the foil away from the cork. He disappeared for 10 minutes before reappearing with the correct bottle, and then he never refilled my glass despite the fact that it was being kept in an ice bucket) and then, even worse in my opinion, forgetting to bring DH a spoon with which to enjoy his bisque. I actually had to flag down another waiter after waiting for 5 minutes to get DH his spoon. Really it's unforgivable to forget that kind of thing.
For dinner I ordered one of the daily specials - a cassoulet (French white bean stew), and DH ordered the chicken with morels in a cream sauce. My cassoulet was just alright; the flavors were really muddled, the texture of some of the contents wasn't really nice, and all in all it just wasn't a success. DH's said that even though the morels and cream sauce were good, the chicken was dry and a little overcooked. Shocking! So, feeling pretty disappointed with both the service and the food, we opted to skip dessert and get the heck out of there. To be fair, the service wasn't universally abysmal there - we watched as one of our waiter's colleagues politely helped a Russian? couple at the next table understand the menu and the day's specials (our waiter - their's as well - had left the English chalkboard with the daily specials at their table saying "here's the English version" and walked away). Anyway, we were pretty bummed, especially since that meal ended up being the most expensive of our short vacation.
We stumbled home again, pretty disillusioned with Paris in general after that second day, to again wait out some noisy neighbors behind paper thin walls before falling asleep.
The Musee d'Orsay was a nice visit. I'm a huge fan of the Impressionists - particularly Monet and Renoir. The collection was very good, crowds were manageable, and we got to see most everything we wanted. The museum building itself was stunning. An old railway station, the openness of the central area made it feel very airy and light. All in all, I'm glad we went, but I don't think I'd visit again. I'd probably try and hit some of the smaller collections (like the one at the Orangerie, which has a huge number of Monets) next time.
After d'Orsay we set out to visit the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysee. We were also starving, and desperately looking for a small boulangerie or something that had sandwiches, or even a crepe stand. For a city that boasts that there is a bakery, a pastry shop, a cheese shop, and a cafe on every block, we had a nearly impossible time finding anything open on that Sunday. We were forced to grab a sandwich at one of the tourist traps on the Champs itself, which wasn't bad, but wasn't really great either, but at that point we had burned so many calories walking we had to make them up somehow. It was spitting rain and quite overcast, which really cast a pall on the whole day. We finally made it to the Arc de Triomphe and were shocked to see it cost more to access the top than to visit the Musee d'Orsay. We did the tourist thing... climbing to the top to overlook the Champs and all the traffic in the Place de Charles de Gaulle Etoile below us. Our view over the city was really marred by the weather; Sacre Couer was barely visible in the distance. We climbed down and made our way back to our apartment for a much needed rest before heading out to what turned out to be the most disappointing meal of our trip.
That night we ate at La Fontaine de Mars - steps away from Cafe Constant where we had had such a good meal the night before, and recommended as a good Sunday night choice by several travel boards. Unfortunately, it wasn't our cup of tea. Our waiter seemed to be that famous Parisian waiter of lore, dismissive and snooty and barely there. We were handed English menus without a question, and the service felt more American (was he trying to flip the table?) than French. The two highlights were DH's starter - an absolutely lovely langostine bisque - and the bottle of Sancerre I ordered after being introduced to the yummy white the night before. Even these two highlights were diminished by the waiter bringing us the wrong bottle of wine at first ("whoops!" he said after I said "Sancerre?" as he was tearing the foil away from the cork. He disappeared for 10 minutes before reappearing with the correct bottle, and then he never refilled my glass despite the fact that it was being kept in an ice bucket) and then, even worse in my opinion, forgetting to bring DH a spoon with which to enjoy his bisque. I actually had to flag down another waiter after waiting for 5 minutes to get DH his spoon. Really it's unforgivable to forget that kind of thing.
For dinner I ordered one of the daily specials - a cassoulet (French white bean stew), and DH ordered the chicken with morels in a cream sauce. My cassoulet was just alright; the flavors were really muddled, the texture of some of the contents wasn't really nice, and all in all it just wasn't a success. DH's said that even though the morels and cream sauce were good, the chicken was dry and a little overcooked. Shocking! So, feeling pretty disappointed with both the service and the food, we opted to skip dessert and get the heck out of there. To be fair, the service wasn't universally abysmal there - we watched as one of our waiter's colleagues politely helped a Russian? couple at the next table understand the menu and the day's specials (our waiter - their's as well - had left the English chalkboard with the daily specials at their table saying "here's the English version" and walked away). Anyway, we were pretty bummed, especially since that meal ended up being the most expensive of our short vacation.
We stumbled home again, pretty disillusioned with Paris in general after that second day, to again wait out some noisy neighbors behind paper thin walls before falling asleep.
Americans in Paris... Day 1 Recap
DH and I spent a long weekend in Paris, filled with walking, food highlights and lowlights, and lots and lots of butter.
Day 1:
We arrived via Jet2 at Terminal 3 at Charles de Gaulle airport. We were staying in an apartment one street over from the Rue Cler, so we called the rental agent from the airport to let her know we were in Paris. To make a long, fiasco-filled story short, we got to the apartment and there was no one there to meet us. After frantically calling and texting the rental agent for 10 minutes, the people I suspect were the "cleaners" came down and let us in. Apparently whoever was supposed to have met us was in some kind of accident (although it couldn't have been too serious since we got a hold of the agent about 30 minutes later). There was much drama and misunderstanding (the cleaners spoke very, very little English, and we spoke no French and very, very little Russian) but we finally got things settled.
We walked to the Eiffel tower, stopping at a little boulangerie/patisserie to pick up an outstandingly delicious onion quiche and a fairly pedestrian apple tart to eat in the park under the Eiffel. We took some pictures, then walked along the Seine for a while, took a chilly boat ride at sunset (which was not visible, since there were heavy dark clouds in the sky the whole weekend) and saw the Eiffel Tower light up for the night.
Without a doubt the highlight of Day 1 was dinner. In what I'm chalking up to intervention by a supreme being, DH and I walked into a fairly popular restaurant (Cafe Constant) a couple of blocks from our apartment at 8:00 and we able to score the last table available that night. Seriously, there was another couple studying the menu outside we passed while entering the restaurant, and when they walked in two minutes after we did, they were told the restaurant was full for the night. Two more groups walked in and were told the same in the following 5 minutes.
DH and I had done lots of mental preparation for eating out in Paris. All the guidebooks and online travel websites tell you that eating out is a religion in Paris, which lots of social codes and such. We wanted to try and fit in (or at least not draw undue attention to ourselves) as much as possible. We read the chalkboard menu all in French (no "menus" here... just chalkboards with the day's offerings) and used our little French phrasebook's menu decoder to try and figure out what everything was. We sorted out what we wanted, ordered in French, and when our waiter said something to us in English (can't remember the circumstance - maybe when we asked for wine) I realized that he had an impeccable unmistakably American accent. I asked him where he was from, and lo and behold he was from NYC (Queens, no less!). Moreover, when the Japanese couple sitting next to us asked if there was a menu in English, our waiter produced an English version of the menu that he himself had translated. DH and I just looked at each other and laughed and laughed... all that effort to try and assimilate, and we had a NYC waiter. It was gratifying, though, to know that we did a pretty darn good job figuring out what everything was from the original French.
Anyway, on to the meal. This was one of the best meals I've eaten in my life, no doubt about it. To start DH and I both had lobster ravioli in a bisque-like sauce. There are no words to describe how wonderful this tasted... the sauce was like velvet, the lobster was sweet and perfectly cooked, and it was the perfect-sized portion. Dinner for me was a lovely cooked filet of sea bass (not Chilean!) on a garlic-potato puree. Absolutely scrumptious! The only complaint I might be so bold as to offer is that the portion size was a little big. There were three filet "chunks", so to speak, and I had palate fatigue after eating two of them. DH had an interesting shrimp dish where the shrimp were lightly "breaded" and fried in what appeared to be a flaky filo dough. Underneath the shrimp were these little roasted potato "coins" that were divine. For dessert, I had a lovely, light Creme Caramel and DH had the richest chocolate I think we've ever tasted. Called "Quenelles Chocolat" or chocolate dumplings, they were these little, solid, egg-shaped milk chocolate "dumplings" that were swimming in a custard-like sauce. They were so rich he could only eat one, and after three bits I was similarly unable to eat any more. But they were incredibly delicious. We had a carafe of wonderful Sancerre white wine (nice and dry, very good with all the rich food we had) and perfect service. Needless to say, it really was a great dining experience. The same chef owns four other restaurants on the same street, and if we return to Paris, we'll absolutely be eating at one of them.
We stumbled home on our sore feet and fell into bed... waiting for the noise of the neighbors to die down behind the paper thin walls of the apartment before we finally we able to get to sleep...
Day 1:
We arrived via Jet2 at Terminal 3 at Charles de Gaulle airport. We were staying in an apartment one street over from the Rue Cler, so we called the rental agent from the airport to let her know we were in Paris. To make a long, fiasco-filled story short, we got to the apartment and there was no one there to meet us. After frantically calling and texting the rental agent for 10 minutes, the people I suspect were the "cleaners" came down and let us in. Apparently whoever was supposed to have met us was in some kind of accident (although it couldn't have been too serious since we got a hold of the agent about 30 minutes later). There was much drama and misunderstanding (the cleaners spoke very, very little English, and we spoke no French and very, very little Russian) but we finally got things settled.
We walked to the Eiffel tower, stopping at a little boulangerie/patisserie to pick up an outstandingly delicious onion quiche and a fairly pedestrian apple tart to eat in the park under the Eiffel. We took some pictures, then walked along the Seine for a while, took a chilly boat ride at sunset (which was not visible, since there were heavy dark clouds in the sky the whole weekend) and saw the Eiffel Tower light up for the night.
Without a doubt the highlight of Day 1 was dinner. In what I'm chalking up to intervention by a supreme being, DH and I walked into a fairly popular restaurant (Cafe Constant) a couple of blocks from our apartment at 8:00 and we able to score the last table available that night. Seriously, there was another couple studying the menu outside we passed while entering the restaurant, and when they walked in two minutes after we did, they were told the restaurant was full for the night. Two more groups walked in and were told the same in the following 5 minutes.
DH and I had done lots of mental preparation for eating out in Paris. All the guidebooks and online travel websites tell you that eating out is a religion in Paris, which lots of social codes and such. We wanted to try and fit in (or at least not draw undue attention to ourselves) as much as possible. We read the chalkboard menu all in French (no "menus" here... just chalkboards with the day's offerings) and used our little French phrasebook's menu decoder to try and figure out what everything was. We sorted out what we wanted, ordered in French, and when our waiter said something to us in English (can't remember the circumstance - maybe when we asked for wine) I realized that he had an impeccable unmistakably American accent. I asked him where he was from, and lo and behold he was from NYC (Queens, no less!). Moreover, when the Japanese couple sitting next to us asked if there was a menu in English, our waiter produced an English version of the menu that he himself had translated. DH and I just looked at each other and laughed and laughed... all that effort to try and assimilate, and we had a NYC waiter. It was gratifying, though, to know that we did a pretty darn good job figuring out what everything was from the original French.
Anyway, on to the meal. This was one of the best meals I've eaten in my life, no doubt about it. To start DH and I both had lobster ravioli in a bisque-like sauce. There are no words to describe how wonderful this tasted... the sauce was like velvet, the lobster was sweet and perfectly cooked, and it was the perfect-sized portion. Dinner for me was a lovely cooked filet of sea bass (not Chilean!) on a garlic-potato puree. Absolutely scrumptious! The only complaint I might be so bold as to offer is that the portion size was a little big. There were three filet "chunks", so to speak, and I had palate fatigue after eating two of them. DH had an interesting shrimp dish where the shrimp were lightly "breaded" and fried in what appeared to be a flaky filo dough. Underneath the shrimp were these little roasted potato "coins" that were divine. For dessert, I had a lovely, light Creme Caramel and DH had the richest chocolate I think we've ever tasted. Called "Quenelles Chocolat" or chocolate dumplings, they were these little, solid, egg-shaped milk chocolate "dumplings" that were swimming in a custard-like sauce. They were so rich he could only eat one, and after three bits I was similarly unable to eat any more. But they were incredibly delicious. We had a carafe of wonderful Sancerre white wine (nice and dry, very good with all the rich food we had) and perfect service. Needless to say, it really was a great dining experience. The same chef owns four other restaurants on the same street, and if we return to Paris, we'll absolutely be eating at one of them.
We stumbled home on our sore feet and fell into bed... waiting for the noise of the neighbors to die down behind the paper thin walls of the apartment before we finally we able to get to sleep...
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Wii Fit - Greatest Invention Ever or Best Invention Ever?
There's a whopping 5 inches of snow outside and it's quite cold and blustery. I, however, am staying active and having fun with my new Wii Fit. Based on rave reviews from several friends (including the one who inspired DH and I to get the Wii to begin with) I ordered a Wii Fit from Amazon as soon as they came back into stock after the Christmas rush. It arrived last night, and already I'm not sure whether I've burned more calories from actually using the thing or just busting a gut laughing at some of the routines.
I've learned:
- DH and I weigh about the same... only he's 3-4 inches taller than me (boo!)
- My BMI is on the high end of normal; DH's is perfect
- I have very poor balance control
- I am not coordinated enough to do step aerobics
- I am really weak and out of shape (just a couple of the strength training exercises and I was DYING!)
- I was an AWESOME hula-hooper when I was a kid, and I don't think that the hula-hooping routine reflects that accurately.
- It's kind of annoying to only do things for 2-3 minute spells only until you're one minute into the routine
- There is nothing in this world funnier than seeing DH's Mii get hit in the face with a soccer cleat. Nothing.
I really hope that the novelty doesn't wear off too quickly for me... because right now it is a ton of fun. I am the kind of person who will try over and over again for a perfect result, and, well, getting a perfect result with some of the challenges on the Wii Fit would mean that I had a perfect body, perfect balance, perfect strength, and perfect stamina. Since that's unlikely to ever be the case, at least I won't be bored for a really, really, long time.
And despite the fact that I'm terrible at the Step routines, I hope that someone comes out with a 20-30 minute step and/or aerobics workout for the Wii for use with the balance board, because I think that would kick butt.
I've learned:
- DH and I weigh about the same... only he's 3-4 inches taller than me (boo!)
- My BMI is on the high end of normal; DH's is perfect
- I have very poor balance control
- I am not coordinated enough to do step aerobics
- I am really weak and out of shape (just a couple of the strength training exercises and I was DYING!)
- I was an AWESOME hula-hooper when I was a kid, and I don't think that the hula-hooping routine reflects that accurately.
- It's kind of annoying to only do things for 2-3 minute spells only until you're one minute into the routine
- There is nothing in this world funnier than seeing DH's Mii get hit in the face with a soccer cleat. Nothing.
I really hope that the novelty doesn't wear off too quickly for me... because right now it is a ton of fun. I am the kind of person who will try over and over again for a perfect result, and, well, getting a perfect result with some of the challenges on the Wii Fit would mean that I had a perfect body, perfect balance, perfect strength, and perfect stamina. Since that's unlikely to ever be the case, at least I won't be bored for a really, really, long time.
And despite the fact that I'm terrible at the Step routines, I hope that someone comes out with a 20-30 minute step and/or aerobics workout for the Wii for use with the balance board, because I think that would kick butt.
Monday, January 26, 2009
The evolution of my photography
I've been flipping through and loading onto Facebook a bunch of photos that DH and I've taken on various vacations through the years. I look at our first group of "digital" pictures taken on our 2004 trip to Italy (DH bought the camera while I was at my language school and brought it over with him when he joined me for some traveling). They're pretty awful. All kinds of interesting corners are cut off whatever we're taking a picture of, lighting is awful, and there aren't enough pictures of either of us with whatever we're photographing. I then look at some of the pictures I took on our trip to London, and while I'm not even an amateur photographer by any stretch of the imagination, I can definitely see an improvement. I seem to be thinking more about what I'm taking a picture of, rather than just snapping away and hoping it turns out okay. I'm also making sure that I have lots of pics of one of us in there, since the memory isn't really supposed to be the building or the art or whatever, but the fact that I was there with someone.
I really regret the paucity of pictures from my 2006 trip to St John with Jeffro and CCHarmony. By then, DH and I had been to St John twice already, and I guess we just thought we had enough pictures. I really regret not having pics of all of us fooling around in the pool and on the pool deck, rambling around in the Jeep, splitting open our poached coconut, etc.
At least I've learned to just keep snapping. If I get one fantastic photo for every 5 I take I'll be happy.
I really regret the paucity of pictures from my 2006 trip to St John with Jeffro and CCHarmony. By then, DH and I had been to St John twice already, and I guess we just thought we had enough pictures. I really regret not having pics of all of us fooling around in the pool and on the pool deck, rambling around in the Jeep, splitting open our poached coconut, etc.
At least I've learned to just keep snapping. If I get one fantastic photo for every 5 I take I'll be happy.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
There and back again
DH and I just popped down to London for a quick weekend trip. It's really great to be able to do that kind of thing! Anyway, we had a great time, saw about 60% of the stuff we had planned on seeing, and met up with a friend of mine I hadn't seen in almost 5 years!
As with my Germany trip, I won't bore you with details, but here's a quick recap of our trip.
Friday, Jan 16
Took the train from Harrogate to London Kings Cross, checked into the hotel, walked about seeing Parliament and Big Ben, Westminster, St. James Park, Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus, Leicester Square, and Trafalgar Square. Met up with Lucy for drinks and dinner, and missed the last Underground train back to our hotel, so we had to grab a taxi to get home (we had enjoyed quite a bit of wine by that point).
Saturday, Jan 17
Took a LONG time getting started this morning ;). In any case, once we did get going, we took a walk along the south bank of the Thames, seeing Parliament and Big Ben (again!), the London Eye (broken, unfortunately, as the weather was perfect for pics from the Eye), the Millennium Bridge, St. Paul's Cathedral (didn't go inside as the best part - the whispering gallery - was closed for renovations), and Fleet Street. We closed out the day by visiting the National Gallery. I was pretty excited to see a bunch of Renaissance paintings, but found out that about 1/2 the paintings I wanted to see had been included in a special exhibition - so they weren't with the permanent collections at that time. Poopers! Oh well, we'll catch them next time. We were cautioned against leaving the Gallery by staff for a short time while a HUGE pro-Gaza, anti-Israeli incursion protest was taking place in Trafalgar Square (right in front of the Gallery). It was pretty wild with helicopters flying overhead and lots of shouting and chanting. When we finally got out, we walked back down towards Westminster, where yet another huge protest was taking place across from Downing Street - this one against the Sri Lankan government in the wake of a murder of a prominent journalist. More excitement. We took it really easy that night by eating dinner near the hotel in preparation for a big Sunday.
Sunday, Jan 18
Up bright and early! Had a hideously huge breakfast at a greasy spoon cafe near Victoria station (which I ate just half of), then made our way up to Covent Garden and through Soho before visiting the British Museum. Spent a few hours checking out the Rosetta Stone!, the Egyptian and near-east collections, and the Ancient Greek and Roman collections. After that we made our way to the Tower of London. We had wanted to take one of the Yeoman's tours and then spend another hour or so exploring the Tower. Unfortunately, the last tour had left an hour before we got there, and the Tower was closing an hour later. There was no way I was going to spend 16.50 pounds for just an hour in the Tower, so we left it until our next visit. Instead, we made our way over to the Tower Bridge, visited the upper deck (with clear skies and a beautiful sunset, it was great). Afterwards, we somehow made it back up to Covent Garden to a neat fish and chips place we'd seen earlier in the day, then raced back to Tower Hill for our Jack the Ripper night walk. Despite being 10 minutes late, we made it (miracle of miracles) and walked around the East End of London hearing about those lovely gruesome murders. Very cool.
The final bit of our day was supposed to have been a trip to The Sports Cafe to watch the Eagles/Cardinals game, but DH checked the score before we got on the Undergrounf, and it was 21-6. He was too discouraged to go out to watch the game, so we just went back to the hotel to ease our aching feet. It turns out the game was on a Sky Sports channel we got in our hotel room, so DH watched the painful second half from the comfort of our hotel bed.
Monday, Jan 19th
Final Day! Quick coffee and pastry from a neighborhood cafe was our breakfast, which we ate in a park overlooking the Thames. Then up to Westminster Abbey for the visit we were supposed to have done on Saturday morning. We spent about 2 hours touring the Abbey (which was awesome!), and by the time we were done it was time to collect our things from the hotel and make our way up to the train station for our train ride home. We'd enjoyed unbelievably good weather the entire weekend, and the instant our train pulled out of Kings Cross, it started pouring rain. C'est la vie.
Pics of our trip can be seen here.
Next month's trip: A long weekend in Paris!
As with my Germany trip, I won't bore you with details, but here's a quick recap of our trip.
Friday, Jan 16
Took the train from Harrogate to London Kings Cross, checked into the hotel, walked about seeing Parliament and Big Ben, Westminster, St. James Park, Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus, Leicester Square, and Trafalgar Square. Met up with Lucy for drinks and dinner, and missed the last Underground train back to our hotel, so we had to grab a taxi to get home (we had enjoyed quite a bit of wine by that point).
Saturday, Jan 17
Took a LONG time getting started this morning ;). In any case, once we did get going, we took a walk along the south bank of the Thames, seeing Parliament and Big Ben (again!), the London Eye (broken, unfortunately, as the weather was perfect for pics from the Eye), the Millennium Bridge, St. Paul's Cathedral (didn't go inside as the best part - the whispering gallery - was closed for renovations), and Fleet Street. We closed out the day by visiting the National Gallery. I was pretty excited to see a bunch of Renaissance paintings, but found out that about 1/2 the paintings I wanted to see had been included in a special exhibition - so they weren't with the permanent collections at that time. Poopers! Oh well, we'll catch them next time. We were cautioned against leaving the Gallery by staff for a short time while a HUGE pro-Gaza, anti-Israeli incursion protest was taking place in Trafalgar Square (right in front of the Gallery). It was pretty wild with helicopters flying overhead and lots of shouting and chanting. When we finally got out, we walked back down towards Westminster, where yet another huge protest was taking place across from Downing Street - this one against the Sri Lankan government in the wake of a murder of a prominent journalist. More excitement. We took it really easy that night by eating dinner near the hotel in preparation for a big Sunday.
Sunday, Jan 18
Up bright and early! Had a hideously huge breakfast at a greasy spoon cafe near Victoria station (which I ate just half of), then made our way up to Covent Garden and through Soho before visiting the British Museum. Spent a few hours checking out the Rosetta Stone!, the Egyptian and near-east collections, and the Ancient Greek and Roman collections. After that we made our way to the Tower of London. We had wanted to take one of the Yeoman's tours and then spend another hour or so exploring the Tower. Unfortunately, the last tour had left an hour before we got there, and the Tower was closing an hour later. There was no way I was going to spend 16.50 pounds for just an hour in the Tower, so we left it until our next visit. Instead, we made our way over to the Tower Bridge, visited the upper deck (with clear skies and a beautiful sunset, it was great). Afterwards, we somehow made it back up to Covent Garden to a neat fish and chips place we'd seen earlier in the day, then raced back to Tower Hill for our Jack the Ripper night walk. Despite being 10 minutes late, we made it (miracle of miracles) and walked around the East End of London hearing about those lovely gruesome murders. Very cool.
The final bit of our day was supposed to have been a trip to The Sports Cafe to watch the Eagles/Cardinals game, but DH checked the score before we got on the Undergrounf, and it was 21-6. He was too discouraged to go out to watch the game, so we just went back to the hotel to ease our aching feet. It turns out the game was on a Sky Sports channel we got in our hotel room, so DH watched the painful second half from the comfort of our hotel bed.
Monday, Jan 19th
Final Day! Quick coffee and pastry from a neighborhood cafe was our breakfast, which we ate in a park overlooking the Thames. Then up to Westminster Abbey for the visit we were supposed to have done on Saturday morning. We spent about 2 hours touring the Abbey (which was awesome!), and by the time we were done it was time to collect our things from the hotel and make our way up to the train station for our train ride home. We'd enjoyed unbelievably good weather the entire weekend, and the instant our train pulled out of Kings Cross, it started pouring rain. C'est la vie.
Pics of our trip can be seen here.
Next month's trip: A long weekend in Paris!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
What's been going on?
It's another gray, rainy day in England-land.
Yesterday was a sunny, but coldish day. I drove my lil' Bug for the first time over to the University of York to meet with the co-coordinators for the MSc program in Marine Environmental Management. I even wore my sunglasses! The meeting went well. Nothing crazy or unexpected, I'd done my homework beforehand and there were no surprises.
When I got into my car after our meeting was over, looked up at the temperature indicator, and saw it was 51 degrees! My lower limit for putting the top down is 50, and the sun was still shining, so down the top went! Woot! I hadn't driven in England-land, and now I was going to drive with the top down!
Unfortunately, my joy was short-lived. About five miles down the road the clouds started to build up, and the temperature dropped to 41 degrees. But I didn't care. I was on a two-lane highway, and speeding along at about 80 with some lovely Dethklok playing in the background. I did give up about 20 miles later, pulled over to the side of the road and put the top up, but still, I was thrilled.
Not much else interesting going on. DH and I are going to London for a long weekend, leaving tomorrow. I most excited about meeting up with two girls I met back in 2004 in Florence; we're having dinner Friday night!
So despite the crazy weather - I'm having a good week. I gotta find something more substantial to do with my time soon, though.
Yesterday was a sunny, but coldish day. I drove my lil' Bug for the first time over to the University of York to meet with the co-coordinators for the MSc program in Marine Environmental Management. I even wore my sunglasses! The meeting went well. Nothing crazy or unexpected, I'd done my homework beforehand and there were no surprises.
When I got into my car after our meeting was over, looked up at the temperature indicator, and saw it was 51 degrees! My lower limit for putting the top down is 50, and the sun was still shining, so down the top went! Woot! I hadn't driven in England-land, and now I was going to drive with the top down!
Unfortunately, my joy was short-lived. About five miles down the road the clouds started to build up, and the temperature dropped to 41 degrees. But I didn't care. I was on a two-lane highway, and speeding along at about 80 with some lovely Dethklok playing in the background. I did give up about 20 miles later, pulled over to the side of the road and put the top up, but still, I was thrilled.
Not much else interesting going on. DH and I are going to London for a long weekend, leaving tomorrow. I most excited about meeting up with two girls I met back in 2004 in Florence; we're having dinner Friday night!
So despite the crazy weather - I'm having a good week. I gotta find something more substantial to do with my time soon, though.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Moving forward while looking backward
Having a Facebook profile and being a curious creature has been a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, reconnecting with friends has never been easier, most of the time with a wave of good memories and a lot of laughs. Old misunderstandings are likely to now be water under the bridge, and new, adult relationships can be built from the foundation of a shared history.
On the other hand, every connection you make with someone from your past puts a memory at risk. Friends who you respected immensely, thought were the smartest or coolest, or even people with whom you had a lot in common, grow and change as much as you have grown and changed. Sometimes you've grown and changed in many of the same ways, and the re-connection provides the catalyst for a whole new relationship. But sometimes the people you have in your memory have grown and changed in ways you would never have suspected, or they never grew or changed at all. That wonderful first love could now be a complete pervy creep. The best friend you spent so many sleepless slumber parties with might now be a bigoted halfwit. Would those be cases where ignorance is bliss?
And sometimes reconnecting comes with a wave of nostalgic angst. You never really know whether old wounds have fully healed and loose ends are definitely tied up until they're challenged head on. Before Facebook, heck, before the internet, plausible deniability ruled the day. In a few cases of my own, I do feel like I've taken a big risk, and I know that if I hadn't truly moved forward, I'd have been paralyzed by looking back and wanting to relive/rehash everything all over again. You never really know until it's too late.
In any case, right now I'm having lots of fun. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I've always been a bit of a risk-taker.
On the other hand, every connection you make with someone from your past puts a memory at risk. Friends who you respected immensely, thought were the smartest or coolest, or even people with whom you had a lot in common, grow and change as much as you have grown and changed. Sometimes you've grown and changed in many of the same ways, and the re-connection provides the catalyst for a whole new relationship. But sometimes the people you have in your memory have grown and changed in ways you would never have suspected, or they never grew or changed at all. That wonderful first love could now be a complete pervy creep. The best friend you spent so many sleepless slumber parties with might now be a bigoted halfwit. Would those be cases where ignorance is bliss?
And sometimes reconnecting comes with a wave of nostalgic angst. You never really know whether old wounds have fully healed and loose ends are definitely tied up until they're challenged head on. Before Facebook, heck, before the internet, plausible deniability ruled the day. In a few cases of my own, I do feel like I've taken a big risk, and I know that if I hadn't truly moved forward, I'd have been paralyzed by looking back and wanting to relive/rehash everything all over again. You never really know until it's too late.
In any case, right now I'm having lots of fun. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I've always been a bit of a risk-taker.
Friday, January 02, 2009
Happy New Year! What's coming up in 2009?
Wow. It's 2009 already. That means it's been 15 years since I graduated from high school, DH graduated from undergrad 10 years ago, and we'll have been married for 8 years in November (but together for 12). I'll turn 33 in August!
Numbers, numbers.
DH and I partied it up with a small group of friend for New Year's Eve, with me drinking a twee bit too much! But it's all good. This is going to be a year of great uncertainty, I think. I'm probably going to apply for another grad program - this one at the University of York. Until that would start though (not until October) I've got to find something to do with myself.
DH is still happy with his job here, and I think we're starting to settle in to a small bit of a routine, though the holidays really screwed around with whatever it was we were starting to establish. We've talked about an awful lot of travel plans (Paris in February, London in January, Spain at Easter time, etc) but nothing has been bought in the way of plane tickets or hotel reservations yet.
The weather is still crap, but maybe, just maybe, the days will begin feeling a little longer in fact rather than in theory. Obama is going to be inaugurated in a couple of weeks, and I'm curious what his administration is going to mean to the agencies I hold dear (NOAA and NASA).
I want to start exercising more and getting out and about more (even just for weekend walks). I hope that the kitties stay healthy and happy. I hope to meet more people and travel more places and do some things that I've never done before. I hope that friends back home are able to come visit us!
Most of all, I just hope for a happy and healthy year for DH and me! If you've got your health, you have it all.
2008 was way too stressful for me, so here's hoping for a better 2009!
Numbers, numbers.
DH and I partied it up with a small group of friend for New Year's Eve, with me drinking a twee bit too much! But it's all good. This is going to be a year of great uncertainty, I think. I'm probably going to apply for another grad program - this one at the University of York. Until that would start though (not until October) I've got to find something to do with myself.
DH is still happy with his job here, and I think we're starting to settle in to a small bit of a routine, though the holidays really screwed around with whatever it was we were starting to establish. We've talked about an awful lot of travel plans (Paris in February, London in January, Spain at Easter time, etc) but nothing has been bought in the way of plane tickets or hotel reservations yet.
The weather is still crap, but maybe, just maybe, the days will begin feeling a little longer in fact rather than in theory. Obama is going to be inaugurated in a couple of weeks, and I'm curious what his administration is going to mean to the agencies I hold dear (NOAA and NASA).
I want to start exercising more and getting out and about more (even just for weekend walks). I hope that the kitties stay healthy and happy. I hope to meet more people and travel more places and do some things that I've never done before. I hope that friends back home are able to come visit us!
Most of all, I just hope for a happy and healthy year for DH and me! If you've got your health, you have it all.
2008 was way too stressful for me, so here's hoping for a better 2009!
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Christmas for Erika in Germany...
I could write pages and pages about our trip over Christmas to Germany, but no one wants to read all that, just like no one wants to watch a slideshow of someone's trip to Florida. So I'll try and keep this short and sweet and just hit the highlights of each day.
Day 1 - Friday, 19 Dec.
DH and I set off for Munich, Germany, on Dec 19th out of Manchester Airport. Our flight was late and it was rainy when we landed. We got sort of lost in the Hauptbahnhof (main train station) looking for the exit that would lead to our hotel (which was quite literally right next door) but nonetheless, had a great first night!
Highlights:
- DH eating his first Bratwurst!
- First visit of the Munich Christmas Market
Day 2 - Saturday, 20 Dec.
It was drizzling outside, and since we had booked the "I Love Chocolate" package through Sofitel, we enjoyed a really big, delicious breakfast before setting off for the Neue Pinakothek for our cultural immersion of the day. That night we had reservations at the hotel restaurant for our three-course chocolate dinner.
Highlights:
- Canova's Paris
- DH's first trip on a Strassenbahn (German street trolley)
- Chocolate dinner at the hotel
- Discovering super-yummy Nuernberger Brats at our new favorite Christmas Market (by the Sendlinger Gate)
Day 3 - Sunday, 21 Dec
We again slept in and enjoyed our huge yummy breakfast. Then we set off for the Deutsches Museum (German Museum) which is Germany's version of all the US Smithsonians combined into one single museum. Oy! We spent no less than 4 hours there! Afterwards we hit our favorite Christmas Market again for more Nuernbergers (although DH ate a normal Bratwurst) and some French Fries, and both our first Feuerzangebowle (traditional German hot drink at Christmas)
Highlights:
- Marine Navigation hall at the Deutsches Museum
- Watching a blind brass band perform Christmas songs at our favorite Christmas Market
- DH's first U-bahn (Germany subway) ride!
Day 4 - Monday, 22 Dec
Today we got ourselves out of bed a littler earlier than we had been, again enjoyed a nice breakfast, and then checked out of our Munich hotel and picked up our rental car. After a brief delay caused by a wicked accident on the Autobahn, we made our way to Noerdlingen, Germany. This is the town featured in the older version of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate factory - at the end when they are flying around in the glass elevator. We also learned that the town was located in the crater of a giant meteor that hit over 15 million years ago, and that NASA astronauts had visited before their trips to the moon for quarrying experience. Pretty cool! They had a sweet little Christmas Market that we visited, eating a pretzel and - what else - another Bratwurst!
We left Noerdlingen to make our way to Rothenburg o.d. Tauber, where we were staying for the night. After some very tense moments getting lost and being unable to find our hotel, we finally checked in, parked the car, walked around the town a little bit, and then did the Nightwatchman Tour! We had a really lovely traditional German dinner at one of the town's hotel restaurants before turning in for the night.
Highlights:
- DH's first drive on the German Autobahn (his max speed - 150-155 km/h)
- Noerdlingen - I loved it!!!
- Nightwatchman's Tour of Rothenburg o.d. Tauber
- Yummy Schweinbraten mit Knoedel at Restaurant Roter Hahn
Day 5 - Tuesday, 23 Dec.
Since we had arrived so late in Rothenburg, we spent most of the day walking the town, visiting the Kriminalmuseum (full of old torture instruments!), and walking along the wall, gardens, and towers of Rothenburg. We left in the late afternoon, just making it to Wuerzburg where we dropped off the car and traveled by train to my friend Andrea's, with whose family we were spending the holidays.
Highlights:
- Seeing Andrea and meeting her loverly family!
- DH's first German train trip!
- DH's and my first Weisswurst (traditional Bavarian/Franconian wurst - not to everyone's taste, but definitely to ours! YUMMY!)
Day 6 - Wednesday, 24 Dec. *Christmas Eve*
What a lovely day. We didn't really do much. Slept late, ate breakfast, walked around Ebelsbach and saw two castles in 10 minutes, relaxed, ate "lunch" (baked chicken breasts wrapped in prosciutto and sage, potato cheese casserole (like an au gratin), and ratatouille), went to Koenigsberg i. B. to see another castle and a quaint little town, then returned to Ebelsbach, went to church for the childrens Mass and Nativity Play, ate yummy individual pizzas, and celebrated a traditional German Christmas.
Highlights
- The little kid playing the main shepherd looking for his little, white lamb at the Christmas children's Mass
- Home-cooked German food! Oh my!
- Walking around Ebelsbach
- Traditional German Christmas tree with real candles!
Day 7 - Thursday, 25 Dec. *Christmas*
Another completely lovely day. After having Christmas dinner (which in Germany is at lunchtime, since the main meal of the day for many Europeans is at lunchtime) which was out of this world (Roulade, Knoedel (large potato dumpling ball), and Rotkohl/Blaukraut (red cabbage)) we went to Bamberg to walk the town's streets. We visited the cathedral, popped into a little restaurant to try a Bamberger Rauchbier (a smoky beer that smelled like smoked ham, and kind of tasted like it too), and generally wiled the day away. Dinner was a meat and cheese platter - where I discovered a new favorite cheese!
Highlights
- Bamberg Cathedral - so gorgeous!
- More German homecooking. Mmmmmmm!
Day 8 - Friday, 26 Dec. *Boxing Day*
Sadly, our last day in Germany. After a quick breakfast, it was off to the train station to catch a train to Frankfurt airport. We said goodbye to our lovely hosts, who are unparalleled in their hospitality, friendliness, and openness, and set off for Harrogate!
Highlights
- DH's first ride on the ICE - Germany's super-fast train (even though we didn't get to go super fast)
- Seeing the kitties again, who were clearly fat and happy and barely noticed our absence (thanks to the excellent care provided by our young hired help).
Pics of our trip can be seen here.
Day 1 - Friday, 19 Dec.
DH and I set off for Munich, Germany, on Dec 19th out of Manchester Airport. Our flight was late and it was rainy when we landed. We got sort of lost in the Hauptbahnhof (main train station) looking for the exit that would lead to our hotel (which was quite literally right next door) but nonetheless, had a great first night!
Highlights:
- DH eating his first Bratwurst!
- First visit of the Munich Christmas Market
Day 2 - Saturday, 20 Dec.
It was drizzling outside, and since we had booked the "I Love Chocolate" package through Sofitel, we enjoyed a really big, delicious breakfast before setting off for the Neue Pinakothek for our cultural immersion of the day. That night we had reservations at the hotel restaurant for our three-course chocolate dinner.
Highlights:
- Canova's Paris
- DH's first trip on a Strassenbahn (German street trolley)
- Chocolate dinner at the hotel
- Discovering super-yummy Nuernberger Brats at our new favorite Christmas Market (by the Sendlinger Gate)
Day 3 - Sunday, 21 Dec
We again slept in and enjoyed our huge yummy breakfast. Then we set off for the Deutsches Museum (German Museum) which is Germany's version of all the US Smithsonians combined into one single museum. Oy! We spent no less than 4 hours there! Afterwards we hit our favorite Christmas Market again for more Nuernbergers (although DH ate a normal Bratwurst) and some French Fries, and both our first Feuerzangebowle (traditional German hot drink at Christmas)
Highlights:
- Marine Navigation hall at the Deutsches Museum
- Watching a blind brass band perform Christmas songs at our favorite Christmas Market
- DH's first U-bahn (Germany subway) ride!
Day 4 - Monday, 22 Dec
Today we got ourselves out of bed a littler earlier than we had been, again enjoyed a nice breakfast, and then checked out of our Munich hotel and picked up our rental car. After a brief delay caused by a wicked accident on the Autobahn, we made our way to Noerdlingen, Germany. This is the town featured in the older version of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate factory - at the end when they are flying around in the glass elevator. We also learned that the town was located in the crater of a giant meteor that hit over 15 million years ago, and that NASA astronauts had visited before their trips to the moon for quarrying experience. Pretty cool! They had a sweet little Christmas Market that we visited, eating a pretzel and - what else - another Bratwurst!
We left Noerdlingen to make our way to Rothenburg o.d. Tauber, where we were staying for the night. After some very tense moments getting lost and being unable to find our hotel, we finally checked in, parked the car, walked around the town a little bit, and then did the Nightwatchman Tour! We had a really lovely traditional German dinner at one of the town's hotel restaurants before turning in for the night.
Highlights:
- DH's first drive on the German Autobahn (his max speed - 150-155 km/h)
- Noerdlingen - I loved it!!!
- Nightwatchman's Tour of Rothenburg o.d. Tauber
- Yummy Schweinbraten mit Knoedel at Restaurant Roter Hahn
Day 5 - Tuesday, 23 Dec.
Since we had arrived so late in Rothenburg, we spent most of the day walking the town, visiting the Kriminalmuseum (full of old torture instruments!), and walking along the wall, gardens, and towers of Rothenburg. We left in the late afternoon, just making it to Wuerzburg where we dropped off the car and traveled by train to my friend Andrea's, with whose family we were spending the holidays.
Highlights:
- Seeing Andrea and meeting her loverly family!
- DH's first German train trip!
- DH's and my first Weisswurst (traditional Bavarian/Franconian wurst - not to everyone's taste, but definitely to ours! YUMMY!)
Day 6 - Wednesday, 24 Dec. *Christmas Eve*
What a lovely day. We didn't really do much. Slept late, ate breakfast, walked around Ebelsbach and saw two castles in 10 minutes, relaxed, ate "lunch" (baked chicken breasts wrapped in prosciutto and sage, potato cheese casserole (like an au gratin), and ratatouille), went to Koenigsberg i. B. to see another castle and a quaint little town, then returned to Ebelsbach, went to church for the childrens Mass and Nativity Play, ate yummy individual pizzas, and celebrated a traditional German Christmas.
Highlights
- The little kid playing the main shepherd looking for his little, white lamb at the Christmas children's Mass
- Home-cooked German food! Oh my!
- Walking around Ebelsbach
- Traditional German Christmas tree with real candles!
Day 7 - Thursday, 25 Dec. *Christmas*
Another completely lovely day. After having Christmas dinner (which in Germany is at lunchtime, since the main meal of the day for many Europeans is at lunchtime) which was out of this world (Roulade, Knoedel (large potato dumpling ball), and Rotkohl/Blaukraut (red cabbage)) we went to Bamberg to walk the town's streets. We visited the cathedral, popped into a little restaurant to try a Bamberger Rauchbier (a smoky beer that smelled like smoked ham, and kind of tasted like it too), and generally wiled the day away. Dinner was a meat and cheese platter - where I discovered a new favorite cheese!
Highlights
- Bamberg Cathedral - so gorgeous!
- More German homecooking. Mmmmmmm!
Day 8 - Friday, 26 Dec. *Boxing Day*
Sadly, our last day in Germany. After a quick breakfast, it was off to the train station to catch a train to Frankfurt airport. We said goodbye to our lovely hosts, who are unparalleled in their hospitality, friendliness, and openness, and set off for Harrogate!
Highlights
- DH's first ride on the ICE - Germany's super-fast train (even though we didn't get to go super fast)
- Seeing the kitties again, who were clearly fat and happy and barely noticed our absence (thanks to the excellent care provided by our young hired help).
Pics of our trip can be seen here.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Finally... news...
Well, thanks to all of you who have offered tons of support, but I've just gotten word that I was not selected to interview for the Bosch Fellowship. At least I now know, and can refocus on getting a job here in the UK! No worries - I totally believe that when God closes a door, he opens a window. I'll think about reapplying again next year in any case.
Thanks again for all the well wishes!
Thanks again for all the well wishes!
Quick update - or rather non-update
For the one or two of you who might be watching for news about my fellowship application, I'm posting to let you know that I still have no update. I emailed the woman yesterday morning (8am England time, so 3am US EST time) and heard nothing all day. Everytime a message appeared in my inbox my heart would jump into my throat, only to be disappointed by the sender being "American Airlines" or "Whole Latte Love" or somesuch other junk mail.
With my friggin' luck, the woman is either a) out sick or b) out for holiday vacation and I still won't know for weeks on end. The mail situation for our APO box is total crap too, so I don't know when/how I'm going to hear.
Frankly, I don't have the best psychic vibe about it anymore. I mean, if I had been selected for interviews, which are being held Jan 13-15th in NYC, I imagine someone would have contacted me by now for travel arrangements, right? Argh, this is so frustrating. I just want to know definitively one way or the other. I feel paralyzed not knowing. It's brutal.
With my friggin' luck, the woman is either a) out sick or b) out for holiday vacation and I still won't know for weeks on end. The mail situation for our APO box is total crap too, so I don't know when/how I'm going to hear.
Frankly, I don't have the best psychic vibe about it anymore. I mean, if I had been selected for interviews, which are being held Jan 13-15th in NYC, I imagine someone would have contacted me by now for travel arrangements, right? Argh, this is so frustrating. I just want to know definitively one way or the other. I feel paralyzed not knowing. It's brutal.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
"Tell me honey, how come you're so cute?"
One of the leading actors from one of my all-time favorite movies died yesterday. Van Johnson, who was 92, starred in "Thirty Seconds over Tokyo," the Hollywood version of the true-life bombing of Tokyo during WWII.
The movie makes me laugh, makes me cry (of course), stars another one of my absolute favorites, Spencer Tracy, and has one of my all-time favorite pieces of dialogue that I use on DH all the time. If you're up one day and see it coming on TCM or something, sit down and watch it. What those boys (yes, they were just boys) did was nothing short of astonishing.
Here's the YouTube link for the trailer to "Thirty Seconds over Tokyo." My favorite piece of dialogue begins about 2:37.
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The movie makes me laugh, makes me cry (of course), stars another one of my absolute favorites, Spencer Tracy, and has one of my all-time favorite pieces of dialogue that I use on DH all the time. If you're up one day and see it coming on TCM or something, sit down and watch it. What those boys (yes, they were just boys) did was nothing short of astonishing.
Here's the YouTube link for the trailer to "Thirty Seconds over Tokyo." My favorite piece of dialogue begins about 2:37.
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Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Kinda just started to freak out...
Since arriving in England, I've put off a job search or anything resembling it because I've applied for a Bosch Fellowship. If I was awarded a spot, I would be spending Sept 2009 - June 2010 in Germany, working for a German government agency and a German non-profit/private sector firm for about 4 months each.
My application was submitted in October, with what I thought was a strong essay and what I knew were two very strong personal recommendations. I thought that I was supposed to hear via email by December 15th whether I was going to be invited just to interview for a spot. Re-reading the application acknowledgment email today, I realized that they are in fact mailing (by regular US mail) those results out, which I should receive by Dec 15th. I did give our APO address on my application, but we've been having tons of issues getting mail from the States at that address. So now I'm kinda freaking out, since they've requested that we not email them about the status of our application until after December 15th. Seriously, at this point I just want to know one way or the other, and not have this hanging over my head. I guess I'm just getting nervous now that it's nearly time to find out, since I haven't really been thinking of it until now.
Of course, with my luck, DH will pick up the letter today when he check our mail on base. It's like some kind of psychic link or something.
My application was submitted in October, with what I thought was a strong essay and what I knew were two very strong personal recommendations. I thought that I was supposed to hear via email by December 15th whether I was going to be invited just to interview for a spot. Re-reading the application acknowledgment email today, I realized that they are in fact mailing (by regular US mail) those results out, which I should receive by Dec 15th. I did give our APO address on my application, but we've been having tons of issues getting mail from the States at that address. So now I'm kinda freaking out, since they've requested that we not email them about the status of our application until after December 15th. Seriously, at this point I just want to know one way or the other, and not have this hanging over my head. I guess I'm just getting nervous now that it's nearly time to find out, since I haven't really been thinking of it until now.
Of course, with my luck, DH will pick up the letter today when he check our mail on base. It's like some kind of psychic link or something.
Saturday, December 06, 2008
Weird, wild, wacky Christmas party (UK edition) - UPDATE
I have learned since attending the surreal Christmas party last night that many of the things I thought were peculiar were indeed British Christmas traditions. To wit:
These are the cylindrical "bang" packages which contained the tissue paper hats and little plastic toys that I was confused by. I learned tonight that they are known as "Christmas Crackers." From Wikipedia:
"Christmas crackers are an integral part of Christmas celebrations in the United Kingdom, Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Republic of Ireland and in other Commonwealth countries. A cracker consists of a cardboard tube wrapped in a brightly decorated twist of paper, making it resemble an oversized sweet-wrapper. The cracker is pulled by two people, and, much in the manner of a wishbone, the cracker splits unevenly. The split is accompanied by a small bang produced by the effect of friction on a chemically impregnated card strip (similar to that used in a cap gun).
In one version of the tradition the person with the larger portion of cracker empties the contents from the tube and keeps them. In another each person will have their own cracker and will keep its contents regardless of whose end they were in. Typically these contents are a coloured paper hat or crown; a small toy or other trinket and a motto, a joke or piece of trivia on a small strip of paper. Crackers are often pulled after Christmas dinner or at parties."
I don't yet understand the tissue paper crowns (which come in the crackers) or the ABBA connection, but I will solve these mysteries and report back to my faithful readers!
These are the cylindrical "bang" packages which contained the tissue paper hats and little plastic toys that I was confused by. I learned tonight that they are known as "Christmas Crackers." From Wikipedia:
"Christmas crackers are an integral part of Christmas celebrations in the United Kingdom, Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Republic of Ireland and in other Commonwealth countries. A cracker consists of a cardboard tube wrapped in a brightly decorated twist of paper, making it resemble an oversized sweet-wrapper. The cracker is pulled by two people, and, much in the manner of a wishbone, the cracker splits unevenly. The split is accompanied by a small bang produced by the effect of friction on a chemically impregnated card strip (similar to that used in a cap gun).
In one version of the tradition the person with the larger portion of cracker empties the contents from the tube and keeps them. In another each person will have their own cracker and will keep its contents regardless of whose end they were in. Typically these contents are a coloured paper hat or crown; a small toy or other trinket and a motto, a joke or piece of trivia on a small strip of paper. Crackers are often pulled after Christmas dinner or at parties."
I don't yet understand the tissue paper crowns (which come in the crackers) or the ABBA connection, but I will solve these mysteries and report back to my faithful readers!
Weird, wild, wacky Christmas party (UK edition)
Wow. I don't even know where to start this post.
Last night was DH's team's Christmas Party. It all sounded normal enough (normal to my American sensibilities, anyway). We were going to a local hotel for a meal, and meeting up for a little pre-party at a nearby couple's house for a little wine and cheese.
Indeed it started pretty much how these things go... we went to the couple's house, which was very nice, and enjoyed some pre-party drinks, were introduced to spouses and made some small talk, and it was all very expected.
I guess the first sign that things were going to be a little different should have been DH telling me that the dress code was either "smart casual" or "70s disco" style. These two things don't make much sense, but I just kind of let it go. When we arrived at the hotel for our pre-dinner drinks at the hotel bar, I looked around at the assembled crowd. Our group was only about 20 people; there were perhaps a hundred or so in the lobby area. People were wearing the widest variety of clothes I had ever seen assembled in one place in my life. There was a very large group of people dressed in black tie formal attire (with more women than I have ever seen in my life squeezing into dresses that had they bothered to check a mirror, they would have known their dress was four sizes too small) Oh - there was a complete lack of appropriate foundation garments as well - there were flat droopy boobs, poochy tummys, and spare tires in abundance. There were the "smart casual" folks, with the boys in nice pants and nice shirts and the occasional tie and blazer and women in nice sweaters or shirts and skirts or casual dresses..
And then there were the folks in the 70s garb. Just. wow. Bell bottoms and paisley galore (including some sequined bell bottom paisley, which was nothing short of insane). These people were dead serious about their 70s style costumes. Standing there in the lobby I bitterly cursed DH for not having a) told me to bring our camera and b) forgetting his iPhone in the car, which takes much better pictures than my crappy cell phone camera.
After a short while in the bar we were led by someone from the hotel staff up to the restaurant and to our reserved tables. The tables were decorated in a way I expected much more for a New Year's Celebration than a Christmas party - with little champagne poppers, noisemakers, strange popping package-type things that went "bang" when you pulled them apart, and really annoying balloon-type things that you blew up and let go, at which point they sailed around the room making that horrible deflating balloon squeal. They looked like giant flying penises and there were dozens of them flying around the room. Inside the little "bang" packages there were tissue paper crowns, which people all around the room were wearing on their heads.
I kind of stood there in shock for a few minutes, trying to understand exactly what this scene in front of me was. Eventually we settled down, had a fairly standard quality hotel-catered meal, and I just kind of was looking around at this surreal scene of grown adults at their companies' Christmas parties, wearing tissue paper hats and shooting champagne poppers at one another and setting off balloons around the room. It was like a strange LSD trip.
And it was only the beginning of the strangeness.
After dinner, once everyone had had their cake and coffee, the entertainment for the evening started. Now DH had told me that the hotel had a 70s theme club or something, he wasn't quite sure what. We joked that it would be something like an ABBA-fest (me) or a BeeGees-fest (him). This of course explained why some of the people in attendance were dressed in 70s garb.
At the front of the room there was a small dance floor with some lights and whatnot set up. The room's lights were dimmed quite low and some peppy instrumental music I didn't recognize at first started playing. I was in no way prepared for what appeared next. Indeed, I'm not quite sure I believe it actually happened yet.
At one point I recognized the musical refrain, at about the same time as DH did. I turned to him and said "Is that... Waterloo?" At that exact moment, the dance floor's lights came on, and there was a group of four - two men and two women - that were clearly an ABBA tribute band. And they started singing "Waterloo."
The room went crazy, "Woo-Hoo"ing and screaming, as if it was a room full of teenage girls and the latest boy band had just taken the stage. A woman, dressed in a 1920's style flapper dress (she was with one of the black-tie groups, I think), almost immediately jumped up on the buffet and started dancing (it was the first song! how much had she had to drink already that she was ready to dance on tables?). The ABBA tribute band was singing its heart out, and I was simply looking at my DH in utter and complete shock.
I kind of figured that they would play one or two songs and then a normal dance floor would follow. How wrong I was. I didn't even think ABBA had that many songs, but they played for a solid hour, with their "encore" number being, of course, "Dancing Queen." It was absolutely surreal. There is simply no other word for it.
Once the band finished playing, our group started to disperse - it was 1100pm on a Friday night, after all. I'm still not sure that I've processed everything that happened last night. After all, my Christmas party experience has mostly been a subdued meal with some folks you work with, perhaps a little bit of Christmas music on to get you in the mood, maybe a Secret Santa or White Elephant/Yankee Swap-type game for some wholesome laughs, and then everyone goes on their merry way.
I was not prepared for an New Year's Eve party-type craziness with an ABBA soundtrack. It was, to say the least, bizarre.
And here are just a couple of crappy cell-phone pics:
Hard to see... but up there are the blond and brunette "ABBA"-like chicks singing
Flapper-like chick dancing on the buffet - TO THE FIRST SONG!
I have a pic of DH wearing his paper crown, but to my chagrin he won't let me make it public.
Last night was DH's team's Christmas Party. It all sounded normal enough (normal to my American sensibilities, anyway). We were going to a local hotel for a meal, and meeting up for a little pre-party at a nearby couple's house for a little wine and cheese.
Indeed it started pretty much how these things go... we went to the couple's house, which was very nice, and enjoyed some pre-party drinks, were introduced to spouses and made some small talk, and it was all very expected.
I guess the first sign that things were going to be a little different should have been DH telling me that the dress code was either "smart casual" or "70s disco" style. These two things don't make much sense, but I just kind of let it go. When we arrived at the hotel for our pre-dinner drinks at the hotel bar, I looked around at the assembled crowd. Our group was only about 20 people; there were perhaps a hundred or so in the lobby area. People were wearing the widest variety of clothes I had ever seen assembled in one place in my life. There was a very large group of people dressed in black tie formal attire (with more women than I have ever seen in my life squeezing into dresses that had they bothered to check a mirror, they would have known their dress was four sizes too small) Oh - there was a complete lack of appropriate foundation garments as well - there were flat droopy boobs, poochy tummys, and spare tires in abundance. There were the "smart casual" folks, with the boys in nice pants and nice shirts and the occasional tie and blazer and women in nice sweaters or shirts and skirts or casual dresses..
And then there were the folks in the 70s garb. Just. wow. Bell bottoms and paisley galore (including some sequined bell bottom paisley, which was nothing short of insane). These people were dead serious about their 70s style costumes. Standing there in the lobby I bitterly cursed DH for not having a) told me to bring our camera and b) forgetting his iPhone in the car, which takes much better pictures than my crappy cell phone camera.
After a short while in the bar we were led by someone from the hotel staff up to the restaurant and to our reserved tables. The tables were decorated in a way I expected much more for a New Year's Celebration than a Christmas party - with little champagne poppers, noisemakers, strange popping package-type things that went "bang" when you pulled them apart, and really annoying balloon-type things that you blew up and let go, at which point they sailed around the room making that horrible deflating balloon squeal. They looked like giant flying penises and there were dozens of them flying around the room. Inside the little "bang" packages there were tissue paper crowns, which people all around the room were wearing on their heads.
I kind of stood there in shock for a few minutes, trying to understand exactly what this scene in front of me was. Eventually we settled down, had a fairly standard quality hotel-catered meal, and I just kind of was looking around at this surreal scene of grown adults at their companies' Christmas parties, wearing tissue paper hats and shooting champagne poppers at one another and setting off balloons around the room. It was like a strange LSD trip.
And it was only the beginning of the strangeness.
After dinner, once everyone had had their cake and coffee, the entertainment for the evening started. Now DH had told me that the hotel had a 70s theme club or something, he wasn't quite sure what. We joked that it would be something like an ABBA-fest (me) or a BeeGees-fest (him). This of course explained why some of the people in attendance were dressed in 70s garb.
At the front of the room there was a small dance floor with some lights and whatnot set up. The room's lights were dimmed quite low and some peppy instrumental music I didn't recognize at first started playing. I was in no way prepared for what appeared next. Indeed, I'm not quite sure I believe it actually happened yet.
At one point I recognized the musical refrain, at about the same time as DH did. I turned to him and said "Is that... Waterloo?" At that exact moment, the dance floor's lights came on, and there was a group of four - two men and two women - that were clearly an ABBA tribute band. And they started singing "Waterloo."
The room went crazy, "Woo-Hoo"ing and screaming, as if it was a room full of teenage girls and the latest boy band had just taken the stage. A woman, dressed in a 1920's style flapper dress (she was with one of the black-tie groups, I think), almost immediately jumped up on the buffet and started dancing (it was the first song! how much had she had to drink already that she was ready to dance on tables?). The ABBA tribute band was singing its heart out, and I was simply looking at my DH in utter and complete shock.
I kind of figured that they would play one or two songs and then a normal dance floor would follow. How wrong I was. I didn't even think ABBA had that many songs, but they played for a solid hour, with their "encore" number being, of course, "Dancing Queen." It was absolutely surreal. There is simply no other word for it.
Once the band finished playing, our group started to disperse - it was 1100pm on a Friday night, after all. I'm still not sure that I've processed everything that happened last night. After all, my Christmas party experience has mostly been a subdued meal with some folks you work with, perhaps a little bit of Christmas music on to get you in the mood, maybe a Secret Santa or White Elephant/Yankee Swap-type game for some wholesome laughs, and then everyone goes on their merry way.
I was not prepared for an New Year's Eve party-type craziness with an ABBA soundtrack. It was, to say the least, bizarre.
And here are just a couple of crappy cell-phone pics:
Hard to see... but up there are the blond and brunette "ABBA"-like chicks singing
Flapper-like chick dancing on the buffet - TO THE FIRST SONG!
I have a pic of DH wearing his paper crown, but to my chagrin he won't let me make it public.
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