ed note: I wrote this at work last week and didn't post it, due to requisite 'marination' time. However I took a super long weekend to recover from my two day work week, and, as much as I continue sharing the minutiae of my life with you, I was NOT going to pop into the office to post this. Here's to more responsible posting in the future.
Jolly Old England:
I loved London. There were the nasty bits, of course, that I didn’t appreciate – the crowds, the huge chunks of time that were spent in commute, the early closing of pubs – but overall, I really enjoyed myself. Certainly much more than the guy that was trying to fish his supa drunk girlfriend out of the gutter she’d passed out in on Friday night.* I bet that was a rough Saturday!
It helped that we were really central and everything was so accessible, if not walkable. I didn’t walk nearly as much as I do in Vancouver, which contributed to the roughly 12 kilos that somehow attached themselves to my midsection during the trip.
I have to gush about Hodge’s family, too. They were so lovely and welcoming (even if I was called by his ex-girlfriends name on more than one occasion [which would be three: cringe]) and generous with their time and space. They really made the trip incredible for me and I hope to return the favour when they’re in Vancouver next.
Re-Affirmations:
I don’t like talking in the morning. Or noise. I’m just not interested in chatting until I have drunk my requisite morning coffee(s) and I take offense to those who try and pull me into pre 10 am conversation. Some may say that I am cranky, I say, I’m simply accepting of my limitations.
I don’t enjoy mass transit. In theory, it works, much like communism, but in practice, it’s bound to fail (in my eyes). Also, public transportation in a new city causes so much anxiety, that I fail to see any of the merits of using the systems (like lower carbon emissions, cheaper [usually] than other modes of transport, faster [sometimes]) and I’ll have a panic attack and call a cab. Irresponsible? Definitely, but rest assured that my guilt and I have a terse discussion before, during and after the trip. Xanax, anyone?
I find it exceedingly difficult to sleep on airplanes. And, as an addendum, I burn with bitter resentment at those who do. If you are one of those people, like my mom and my boyfriend, then I am truly sorry, but we can’t be friends. In fact, if you could send me a lock of your hair, I will begin construction on your very own voodoo doll. Lucky you!!
Big, Big T*ttays
I have a love/hate relationship with shopping. I typically enjoy shopping for tops over pants, because, let’s face it, there isn’t anything that can destroy your self-esteem more than having to try on a larger size pant because your thighs are too big for the skinny jeans. Or having the outfit that you’ve envisioned for months dashed because it just looks … wrong on you, due to the unsightly bulges, tightness or sacklike nature of the item on your figure, etc ad nauseum.
Saying that, I was really looking forward to shopping in the UK because the media, at least, seems to be obsessed with ‘larger’ women and turning the screws of shopping outlets to stock larger sizes and have ‘realistic’ shaped mannequins on display in lieu of the size zero models designed to crush your spirit. I assumed that there would be shirts and pants to fit around my generous bust and hips.
I did find a shirt that I loved. Like, really loved. It fit really well, nicely swaddling my hips in creamy linen, flattering at the waist, but so tight in the bust that I feared I would bust open the seams if I breathed too deeply (read: at all). That, and they were squished together and propped up just south of my chin in a manner that was wholly unflattering and not particularly comfortable.
I know this seems counter-intuitive to mainstream society these days, but I would really, really appreciate smaller breasts. I find it really unfair that my boobs are an extra large while my waist is a medium. Not cool, genes, not cool at all (I’m looking at you, mother).
Tourist Time in LonDon
1. A bus tour of London. I went on a Friday afternoon with Hodge and his sister, Podge. We stopped over to get a live tour guide on the bus, and had to wait a bit, with much confusion over which bus we would be using. While the perspective was nice, getting to look around and up without feeling like an enormous tool in the crowds, the traffic was really bad and it took us two hours to navigate from Hyde Park to the London Eye (which I opted not to do – the Eye that is, the traffic I was stuck with). Our tour guide, Chris, was a relatively old guy, who seemed to be more interested in pointing out the pubs than the sights (in anticipation of a foamy drink post work?), and was slightly less than charming. Overall, I scored them a 4/10.
2. The London Dungeons. Also on a Friday afternoon. It was good fun, actually. They have actors that lead the tours around (you can’t proceed without them), and all of the parts are really well thought out and executed (HA!). The only criticism that I have of this trap is the waiting. There was a lot of standing, shuffling, rocking and waiting for the next part to proceed. If you’ve got good, supportive shoes, I heartily recommend a visit to the dungeons. They got a score of 8.5/10.
3. The Tower of London. We arrived just in time for a tour from one of the Beef Eaters, who happened to be one of the most charming people that I encountered in the UK, the family of Hodge and Podge excluded. A tip of the hat to you, sir, way to make history fun**! I didn’t check out all that there is to see in the tower, because it’s huge! I imagine that it would take a full day or two to really discover all that this place has to offer, and I have a limit on how much sight seeing I can do in a day. I would urge a visit to the vault to check out the 532 carat diamond that is in there, just because it is so ridiculous and covetous! The Tower scores 8.5/10.
Until the next, Anna
*true story...gutter troll!
*Nerd! Erm, that would be me, not him. He was lovely!
Showing posts with label London. Show all posts
Showing posts with label London. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
The (almost) International Edition
I had sort of hoped to write a post while I was away, but it turns out that when you’re visiting a city as big as London for the first time, there is no time for sleeping, much less writing. Particularly since I was jet lagged enough (but in serious denial) to be suffering from unpredictable bouts of crankiness, violent restless leg syndrome and suffering from short term narcolepsy, which has yet to leave me.
In the meanwhile, watch the video, because I love it. And if I love it, you shall love it! Go Rusty!!
A bientot, Anna
In the meanwhile, watch the video, because I love it. And if I love it, you shall love it! Go Rusty!!
A bientot, Anna
Monday, March 22, 2010
Posts from Last Week
What Just Happened?
I’ve had a bit of a whirlwind week so far. And I think it will continue until the end of the month. In fact I know it will continue until the end of the month, because I am going to London. Just bought the tickets yesterday, we leave in exactly one week to the hour. The hour!*
I’m sure that this isn’t cause for celebration for a lot of people, but this girl, this one right here, typing her excited little heart out, she’s never been. I’ve been through Heathrow a handful of times, but have never stepped out of the airport boundaries, ever ever ever. And I’m 96% confident that I am going to lurve it.
What about the 4% internet? I’ll tell you about the 4%:
1% - Rick. I'm missing out on seeing a really good friend, one that I haven’t seen in far too long by 6 days. Six days, universe! What a cruel mistress you are. As much as I would like to curse karma, or whoever it is in charge of shitty schedules (also responsible for public transit, I am confident that one day, when we’re grey and wrinkly that we’ll manage to organise a real life date. It is now officially on my bucket list. or would be, if I had one. I will start one today and ammend to list. Can a bucket list have only one item??
1% - Hodge’s friends. To be absolutely clear, I am not too concerned at all about meeting his friends. They seem like a cool bunch and I’m really looking forward to meeting them. What I am concerned about is my liver. I have been told three times since we booked the tickets 12 hours ago to make sure I pack my drinking boots, ‘cause we’re going to see the inside of a lot of pubs. I like pubs, but I like not drinking too. But, once I'm in a pub, I am incapable of ordering a non alcoholic beverage. It's the rules.
1% - Hodge’s sister. They’re really close and I think that if I don’t get the stamp of approval from her, then we’re done. So, that’s exciting! I don’t think any part of my future has ever been held in the palm of a peer, particularly someone I’ve yet to meet. Kill me now!
1% - Sleeping arrangements. They have an apartment in London where we’ll be staying. The spare bedroom, has two single (!) beds, is where the kids will be sleeping – Hodge, his sister and myself - …huh? Is that weird? It’s really his sisters bedroom, because she lives there full time, so we’re really invading her space, but Hodge thinks that we’ll put an air mattress in between them and he’ll sleep on that. I’m stuck on the idea that people still use single beds. I thought they stopped making them years ago, when the collective realised that the bigger the bed, the happier the soul. I don’t know if I will fully realise the dorm room-ness of bed-time will be fully realised until then.
So that’s that. I’ve genuinely given myself pause by writing that last paragraph and will require a very stiff drink to come to terms with that whole birds nest. (anxiety level up at least 5%).
The Mothership…
…has returned to her own neck of the woods and I am surprised and happy to report that she had a great time. This means, of course, that she wants to come back very soon, but I suppose there are worse things in life (like sharing bedrooms with strangers…what if I fart in my sleep? Anxiety +7 points).
During the weekend, I hosted not one, but two very successful dinner parties catered by Mama. They were delicious, I’m told – they were meat heavy, so I opted for vegetables – and well lubricated. Thankfully!!
I’ve also realised that by having friends over, I have increased my wine rack occupancy by 50%. I think if I were a good hostess, I would return the wine to it’s respective owners, BUT, I now consider the bottles abandoned and will do my duty as a surrogate parent to make sure they are well digested. Just give me time!
Birthday week!!
I had an early celebration on Friday, because everyone in the office is travelling for my (very important) birthday week. Since all of us are always up for eating lunch and drinking beer, we went to the pub.
And stayed there.
To the tune of 50,000 pints. Or near enough. I was quite drunk by 2.30 pm and took an early day, convinced my friends that we should go drink mojitos by the ocean, which led into a few other drinking dens of various repute as they night went on. And I had a great time. I think of it as my unofficial birthday party, because I have been equal parts lazy/busy/disinterested in planning an actual event, and I much prefer spontaneous happenings! They always turn out much better, don’t they??
Late last night
My super sweet and cool cousin T broke up with her long distance boyfriend yesterday. If it were anyone else, I’m sure that I would be complaining about how late it was and how long we spoke for, heartbreak and breakups, etc, but, it’s T and I’m crying with her.
The story is:
He lives in Seattle, she’s in Vancouver, which makes him an American and she a Canadian. Though they’re only separated by a 2 hour drive, the limitations on them making a further commitment to each other is hindered by the ugly beast called Immigration. T can’t work there unless she gets sponsored by a company, which is a big ask in ordinary circumstances, but is a huge ask in a flailing economy. S has a really great job and doesn’t really want to leave, because it’s what he’s always wanted to do for a career and he’s got a really good set up.
So where do they go from here? Personally, I think they’ll get back together and work out a solution together. That’s my hope, anyway. They’re really good people and so good together that I can’t help but want the best for them both, as a duo or separately, if that's how it's supposed to be. Watch this space.
And to lighten things up
I have joined a rowing club and I couldn’t be more excited!! I’ve wanted to learn to row for years, but it’s always slipped to the periphery of what I’ve been doing, until Bobo mentioned it to me a few weeks ago. He joined up and will be starting in May (in 5 short weeks) and I will be in the boat with him. Gold star to him for inspiration and motivation!!
This leaves me just enough time to hit the gym and use the rowing machine, because I will be damned if I am going to be the weakest link on the boat. I would simply die of shame, turn into a fish and get caught in trawler nets. It would be the WORST.THING.EVER. If I was the slowest kid.
I joined a boot camp class last year, and it was the worst thing ever. The class was heavy on cardio and light on circuit training, and my soul was crushed every Tuesday and Thursday morning when I practiced what I signed up for. Each class, we’d do a 2 km run to a destination, do some squats, lunges and planks and then jog 2 kms back to the gym, uphill**.
The thing with the running is, I don’t like it. I’ve earnestly tried and re-tried to give it a chance. I even went for a jog two weeks ago to see if I’d like it yet (I didn’t). I always get shin splints and there isn’t much that I dislike more than having sore shins for days following a run. And on the motivation front, I hated being the slowest in the class. There wasn’t much support for the slow ones, aside from occasional shouts of encouragement from an instructor who’d run back to cheer us on. So, after 4 classes, I stopped going.
I don’t want the rowing to turn into boot camp. But, I am pretty sure that there is a certain level of fitness that I should reach before I can be competent in pulling those oars for 90 minutes, twice a week. Fingers crossed that I can make that happen. Send me fit thoughts!
-Leaving on a jet plane (countdown is 32 hours…god…laundry…empty the fridge…take the trash out…) Anna
*I began writing this post last week, as the timeline suggests, so I thought to add a simple postscript, largely due to the lack of time I have to re-write. So make due with this sloppy post, internet.
*Not in the, 'in my day, we walked 40kms to school backwards, up hill, in the snow!' kind of way but in the, run to the park down hill, and finish with a 40% grade up hill run. Because that's a fun way to end classes. Jogging Fail!
I’ve had a bit of a whirlwind week so far. And I think it will continue until the end of the month. In fact I know it will continue until the end of the month, because I am going to London. Just bought the tickets yesterday, we leave in exactly one week to the hour. The hour!*
I’m sure that this isn’t cause for celebration for a lot of people, but this girl, this one right here, typing her excited little heart out, she’s never been. I’ve been through Heathrow a handful of times, but have never stepped out of the airport boundaries, ever ever ever. And I’m 96% confident that I am going to lurve it.
What about the 4% internet? I’ll tell you about the 4%:
1% - Rick. I'm missing out on seeing a really good friend, one that I haven’t seen in far too long by 6 days. Six days, universe! What a cruel mistress you are. As much as I would like to curse karma, or whoever it is in charge of shitty schedules (also responsible for public transit, I am confident that one day, when we’re grey and wrinkly that we’ll manage to organise a real life date. It is now officially on my bucket list. or would be, if I had one. I will start one today and ammend to list. Can a bucket list have only one item??
1% - Hodge’s friends. To be absolutely clear, I am not too concerned at all about meeting his friends. They seem like a cool bunch and I’m really looking forward to meeting them. What I am concerned about is my liver. I have been told three times since we booked the tickets 12 hours ago to make sure I pack my drinking boots, ‘cause we’re going to see the inside of a lot of pubs. I like pubs, but I like not drinking too. But, once I'm in a pub, I am incapable of ordering a non alcoholic beverage. It's the rules.
1% - Hodge’s sister. They’re really close and I think that if I don’t get the stamp of approval from her, then we’re done. So, that’s exciting! I don’t think any part of my future has ever been held in the palm of a peer, particularly someone I’ve yet to meet. Kill me now!
1% - Sleeping arrangements. They have an apartment in London where we’ll be staying. The spare bedroom, has two single (!) beds, is where the kids will be sleeping – Hodge, his sister and myself - …huh? Is that weird? It’s really his sisters bedroom, because she lives there full time, so we’re really invading her space, but Hodge thinks that we’ll put an air mattress in between them and he’ll sleep on that. I’m stuck on the idea that people still use single beds. I thought they stopped making them years ago, when the collective realised that the bigger the bed, the happier the soul. I don’t know if I will fully realise the dorm room-ness of bed-time will be fully realised until then.
So that’s that. I’ve genuinely given myself pause by writing that last paragraph and will require a very stiff drink to come to terms with that whole birds nest. (anxiety level up at least 5%).
The Mothership…
…has returned to her own neck of the woods and I am surprised and happy to report that she had a great time. This means, of course, that she wants to come back very soon, but I suppose there are worse things in life (like sharing bedrooms with strangers…what if I fart in my sleep? Anxiety +7 points).
During the weekend, I hosted not one, but two very successful dinner parties catered by Mama. They were delicious, I’m told – they were meat heavy, so I opted for vegetables – and well lubricated. Thankfully!!
I’ve also realised that by having friends over, I have increased my wine rack occupancy by 50%. I think if I were a good hostess, I would return the wine to it’s respective owners, BUT, I now consider the bottles abandoned and will do my duty as a surrogate parent to make sure they are well digested. Just give me time!
Birthday week!!
I had an early celebration on Friday, because everyone in the office is travelling for my (very important) birthday week. Since all of us are always up for eating lunch and drinking beer, we went to the pub.
And stayed there.
To the tune of 50,000 pints. Or near enough. I was quite drunk by 2.30 pm and took an early day, convinced my friends that we should go drink mojitos by the ocean, which led into a few other drinking dens of various repute as they night went on. And I had a great time. I think of it as my unofficial birthday party, because I have been equal parts lazy/busy/disinterested in planning an actual event, and I much prefer spontaneous happenings! They always turn out much better, don’t they??
Late last night
My super sweet and cool cousin T broke up with her long distance boyfriend yesterday. If it were anyone else, I’m sure that I would be complaining about how late it was and how long we spoke for, heartbreak and breakups, etc, but, it’s T and I’m crying with her.
The story is:
He lives in Seattle, she’s in Vancouver, which makes him an American and she a Canadian. Though they’re only separated by a 2 hour drive, the limitations on them making a further commitment to each other is hindered by the ugly beast called Immigration. T can’t work there unless she gets sponsored by a company, which is a big ask in ordinary circumstances, but is a huge ask in a flailing economy. S has a really great job and doesn’t really want to leave, because it’s what he’s always wanted to do for a career and he’s got a really good set up.
So where do they go from here? Personally, I think they’ll get back together and work out a solution together. That’s my hope, anyway. They’re really good people and so good together that I can’t help but want the best for them both, as a duo or separately, if that's how it's supposed to be. Watch this space.
And to lighten things up
I have joined a rowing club and I couldn’t be more excited!! I’ve wanted to learn to row for years, but it’s always slipped to the periphery of what I’ve been doing, until Bobo mentioned it to me a few weeks ago. He joined up and will be starting in May (in 5 short weeks) and I will be in the boat with him. Gold star to him for inspiration and motivation!!
This leaves me just enough time to hit the gym and use the rowing machine, because I will be damned if I am going to be the weakest link on the boat. I would simply die of shame, turn into a fish and get caught in trawler nets. It would be the WORST.THING.EVER. If I was the slowest kid.
I joined a boot camp class last year, and it was the worst thing ever. The class was heavy on cardio and light on circuit training, and my soul was crushed every Tuesday and Thursday morning when I practiced what I signed up for. Each class, we’d do a 2 km run to a destination, do some squats, lunges and planks and then jog 2 kms back to the gym, uphill**.
The thing with the running is, I don’t like it. I’ve earnestly tried and re-tried to give it a chance. I even went for a jog two weeks ago to see if I’d like it yet (I didn’t). I always get shin splints and there isn’t much that I dislike more than having sore shins for days following a run. And on the motivation front, I hated being the slowest in the class. There wasn’t much support for the slow ones, aside from occasional shouts of encouragement from an instructor who’d run back to cheer us on. So, after 4 classes, I stopped going.
I don’t want the rowing to turn into boot camp. But, I am pretty sure that there is a certain level of fitness that I should reach before I can be competent in pulling those oars for 90 minutes, twice a week. Fingers crossed that I can make that happen. Send me fit thoughts!
-Leaving on a jet plane (countdown is 32 hours…god…laundry…empty the fridge…take the trash out…) Anna
*I began writing this post last week, as the timeline suggests, so I thought to add a simple postscript, largely due to the lack of time I have to re-write. So make due with this sloppy post, internet.
*Not in the, 'in my day, we walked 40kms to school backwards, up hill, in the snow!' kind of way but in the, run to the park down hill, and finish with a 40% grade up hill run. Because that's a fun way to end classes. Jogging Fail!
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