I Hate Forms

 I would like to start by thanking everyone for their kind thoughts and words of encouragement in regard to the drama that went down in my life on December 2nd.  I am bolstered by the fact that many of you seem to find the entire situation as ludicrous as I and additionally, do not feel that I look like a terrorist.  While that was certainly not the reason Border Patrol held me, I am still glad to know that I will not ever be general cast as 'terrorist'.
The last couple of weeks have been rife with information, misinformation, starts and stops, and paperwork.  Ohhhh... the paperwork.  And I will say that it is somewhat disheartening to have to check the 'YES' box to the question, "Have you been refused entry to the UK within the last 10 years?  If so, please explain."  This is in the list of questions that most of us gladly check down the line 'NO' to.  It's in there with, "In times of peace or war have you ever been involved in, or suspected of involvement in, war crimes, crimes against humanity or genocide?"  So in my explanation to my refused entry, I was extremely tempted to enter: "I was refused entry due to a misunderstanding of the true purpose for my visiting my fiance.  It's not like I committed crimes against humanity or anything!"  But my better judgement prevailed.  If anything, my desire to do everything absolutely right, to the letter, almost paralyzed me.  I sat there for 2 days analyzing the meaning of the word "partner" and how it pertained to J and I.  I began questioning what the application was really inferring when it asked for my mother's 'family name'.  I was so scared to answer incorrectly, give too much information, or give not enough that I found myself retreating and not doing the very things that I absolutely needed to do to ensure that J and I be reunited in the shortest period of time possible.  At one point he made an excellent point.  The rational type of argument that I needed to hear.  J said, "Listen, these things are submitted all of the time and sometimes people just get turned down.  It doesn't matter how comprehensive the supporting documents are, how well the application is filled out, the application gets turned down and that's that."  Well, of course I started to cry because that has become my primary form of communication over the past 2 weeks.  I am fabulous company right now, let me tell you.  But when I thought about it and really took it in, it helped me get over my fear and the obsessive compulsive spiral that I was sliding down.  While still being comprehensive in my completion of the visa application, it helped me relax just a bit to know that in the end, it might not matter.  This may seem counter intuitive, but it worked.  Leave it to the Latin sensibility to trump my American rigidity!  It was Susan Powter coming over and telling me to 'STOP THE INSANITY'!! (Now how's that for a reference?)
Yesterday I put my application in the mail.  Well, to be specific, I sent it Fed Ex-per application instructions.  This is all rather hilarious because the British General Consulate is about 6 blocks away from my office.  But, following the directions, as I am wont, I sent it Fed Ex which means it took a little trip down to Tennessee last night before coming back up to NYC for Priority Delivery today.  I had hysterical visions of the package being lost or the FedEx truck catching on fire destroying its precious cargo.  Of course none of this happened and I received my delivery confirmation this morning.  If you think that sounds insane, well-yeah.  That's just the way things have been the last 3 weeks.
Now we wait.

I would be remiss if I did not mention the fact that the events of last Friday morning at Sandy Hook Elementary certainly helped to put my situation into some perspective.  While all of this has been far from ideal, J and I still have each other.  We may be on different continents, but it is not a permanent situation.  26 families had their lives tragically and permanently changed that day.  No amount of paperwork, no amount of seemingly redundant tasks can bring back to life the people who died in an environment that they surely felt was safe and secure.  As a former first grade teacher, I cannot adequately express how I felt as I started to read the news of what had transpired that morning.  My heart and prayers go out to those affected.

USA-UK-USA

I have been debating about when I was going to be ready to write this post, but as I appear to have found myself a little following and as my friends start to clamor for news on the royal baby-to-be, I find it necessary to simply "take the hill fast" and get this over with.
Simply put: I am not in the UK.  I am on the LI.
It's not that I wasn't in the UK... I was.  For about 7 hours.
But they decided that I couldn't stay.  I am apparently such an unsavory character, that I never even got past immigration at Heathrow.
And so, we begin our story:
Most of my life I have been a little bit "difficult" and immigration to the UK proved to, once again, be a situation in which I was "difficult".  Not because of my attitude, mind you, but because we were a little unsure as to how to get me across the pond on an extended stay.  While J and I know we want to spend the rest of our lives together, we did not want to enter into some kind of quickie wedding for the soul purpose of the move.  So as I was not a spouse and we were not planning on having a wedding within the UK, this made our options for my immigration to the UK rather limited.  We were advised by an immigration lawyer in the UK that I should initially enter the country on a typical American tourist visa.  No paperwork required, a simple tourist stay-which Americans are entitled to for up to 6 months.  After that, J and I would take it from there, most likely getting married back here in the states with my subsequent application for a dependent visa.  We did not, however, really ever discuss this in detail since it was still some months away.  With this settled, J and I went about taking care of the many other things calling for our attention; getting his work visa settled, finding a tenant for our apartment, selling excess furniture, saying goodbye to friends, Hurricane Sandy, moving, and all the other stresses and responsibilities that go with an international relocation.
December 1, 2012.  JFK Airport.  8:00 PM.  I say goodbye to my parents and while we are a little teary, we manage to hold it together for the most part.  My luggage is quickly weighed and taken and I am given a boarding pass with directions on how to get to the Virgin Atlantic Lounge.  As J's work has paid for my trip, I am flying "Upper Class" and feeling quite excited about it!  I truly never realized that the difference between First and Business Class to Coach was akin to Upper Class versus Steerage on the Titanic.  I mean, SERIOUSLY.  They gave me pajamas.  I had a lay-down bed with a REAL pillow and a duvet.  There was a menu for breakfast the next morning and the option for wake up service.  Christy Turlington was across the aisle from me.  I should have known.  Really, I should have.  It was all too good to be true.
We land at Heathrow and are give 'Fast Track' passes through immigration.  Which means that I get 'Fast Tracked' right to a detention room.  Here are the reasons I found myself in a detention room at Heathrow Airport: 1.) I was traveling without a return ticket. 2.) I had recently left my job (as in, the day before). 3.) I was asking to stay an extended time period (6 months). 4.) I was an American woman (apparently we have a rather bad reputation of overstaying our tourist visas in the UK).  At this point I am not worried.  I was half expecting this because I realized that the 'having no job' and the 'staying for 6 months' might raise a red flag.  But.  Things quickly went downhill.
All of my possessions were confiscated, cell phone and passport included.  Fingerprints were taken 8 different ways and my photo was taken 10 different ways.  As one might imagine, after a 7 hour flight and an hour plus on the ground, I was NOT ready for my close up.  My bags were searched.  Unbeknownst to me, J was contacted and interviewed.  And then I was called into an interview room after about 3 hours in the detention room.  I was told not to lean against any wall as there was a red panic strip running along the perimeter of the room.  Comforting.  And who is this panic strip for, exactly?  Because at this point, I was far closer to complete meltdown than the Border Patrol Agent interviewing me.
The questioning begins.  This was perhaps one of the most inefficient ways to interview someone that I have ever experienced in my life.  The Border Patrol Agent would think of a question, write it down, and then ask for my response.  As she had to record everything I was saying, she kept asking me to start and then stop again.  Let's just say, she did not record everything I was saying.  The process was absolutely maddening.  And the crux of the questioning was why I was visiting J and what our plans were after the 6 months were up.  Upon my response of "marriage at some point", I was asked if we planned on marrying in the UK.  My response to this was that we were unsure and had not discussed specifics but that we would get married wherever best suited our purposes.  I was then asked if we would get married at a Registrar's Office.  EXCUSE ME?  What the heck is that and why are we talking about my marriage?  This is not the point!  But as I was soon to discover, it WAS the point.  I responded that if we were to get married in NYC, we would get married at City Hall, so if the Registrar's Office is what they call it in London, OK.  But I reiterated that London was really not something we had considered.  I was then asked if my parents would come to a wedding in London.  "Why in the world does this chick keep asking me questions about our getting married in London," I ask myself?  I say to her, "Well I know my parents would like to be at my wedding no matter where I got married.  They would be there in NY and I know they would be willing to travel anywhere, so I guess they would come to a wedding in London."  If you can see where this is going, great, because I clearly didn't.  At no point had I told this woman that the purpose of my visit was to come to London to marry J.  But at some point during her interviews with both J and myself, this was the conclusion that she drew.  And given the interview procedure and the way that I chose to answer her very narrow question set, she had enough evidence to support her determination.
I was told at this point that from what the Border Agent could conclude, my purpose for entering the UK was to marry J and to marry J only.  Forget Big Ben, forget Parliament, forget the fact that I merely wanted to spend some time with my boyfriend/fiancee/'whatever the hell you want to call him' while we figured out next steps, as advised by our attorney!  I was told that because of this conclusion, I would need a specific Fiancee Visa and that since I did not have this visa, I would be returning to the US that evening.  Well, cue the waterworks.  And we are not talking pretty little drippy tears.  We are talking Niagra flippin Falls.  At this point she asks me to sign the interview, which I do because I am hysterical and confused and upset and I feel almost betrayed, in a sense, by let's just say... EVERYONE because HOW DID I END UP IN THIS SITUATION; and seriously, I need to get BACK ON A PLANE??  To say that I left my body a bit would not be an over-exaggeration.  Then the Border Agent tells me that she may be able to get her supervisor to allow me a temporary exemption so that I, essentially, could see J.  It was most likely not to be more than a day or two, but at this point I was willing to take anything that I could get.  An hour later I am handed a paper that informs me that I will be on a Virgin Atlantic flight back to the US as of 4:50 PM.
I am allowed to speak with J which is mostly me hysterical crying and hiccuping into the phone.  He tells me that he will call my parents as my mobile is still not available to me and I need someone to pick me up at JFK that night.  2 hours later, I am on a plane back to the US.  I arrive back at JFK December 2, 2012 at 8:00 PM.  To say it was a rough 24 hours... well, yeah.
I am allowing myself to get over the absurdity of it all.  If I kept thinking about it, I would drive myself absolutely crazy.  In the words of the Border Patrol Agent assigned to escort me to the plane back to NYC (all the while holding my passport which was then handed over to a flight attendant before given back to me), "Well rules ARE rules, but sometimes you need to be human!"  Even she could not believe the circumstances of my "Refusal of Entry".  But the only thing to be done at this point is to figure out next steps and what visa I do need.  As J and I are NOT planning on being married in the UK, the visa I was advised to get from the Border Patrol Agent who interviewed me is incorrect.  J and I will get through this, we are lucky to have some resources at our fingertips through his work and our own personal connections.  We are being assisted by a UK B.P. Agent based in the US as well as members of the UK Consulate in NYC.  The whole process will be a bit more difficult that we originally thought, but when have I ever made things easy?  As I told J today, "Well, I just didn't want you to be bored these first few months at work."  And how!
Of course, I do have my personal theory on why all of this has happened.  Not 24 hours after my return to the US, the palace announced Dutchess Kate's pregnancy.  And all of a sudden it was clear to me.  Well of course they didn't want the news of my arrival on their shores to eclipse the news of the expected future heir to the throne!  Well played, UK Border Patrol, well played.
Stay tuned for updates.  I am still UK bound!  I have an obligation to report back to you all!  I just need to get there first.

Simple Gifts-An American In London Thanksgiving Edition

'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free

'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

'Twill be in the valley of love and delight. 

-Elder Joseph 

I am thankful for so many things this year.  First and foremost I am so happy and thankful to still be in the United States for Thanksgiving.  One of the first things I thought about when J mentioned November 1 as a move date was that I would miss Thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays.  Growing up it was the holiday during which my Grandparents Howe would come to town.  Since my parents had moved to the east coast while the majority of our extended family was in the mid-west, I was always excited for any occasion that warranted a visit.  But here we were moving to a country that does not celebrate Thanksgiving.  Heck, they don't even have turkey readily available.  And I am sorry, but Thanksgiving celebrated with a chicken is just not the same.  I hear it is possible to find restaurants that serve 'Thanksgiving Dinner' to American tourists and ex-pats but they charge you an arm and a leg for less than an arm and a leg! As it turned out, my move date was pushed back to December 1 and here I am, out on Long Island, celebrating Thanksgiving. 

I am thankful for suitcases with wheels as it made my Manhattan Magical Mystery Tour manageable and saved me from a hernia at age 31.
I am thankful to the programmers at HGTV who are honestly, a little lazy I think; but whose laziness ensures that House Hunters is on whenever nothing else on my 800 channels of television looks good.  Also, thank you for upping the ante with House Hunters Renovation.
I am thankful for Daniel Day Lewis.  Period.
I am thankful for this year's Penn State Football team led by coach Bill O'Brien.  Their performance under pressure, on and off the field has been admirable.  Michael Mauti, I would give you my knees, but I don't think you'll want them in the condition they are in.
I am thankful for the conductors on the LIRR who have only intermittently checked for tickets over the past 3 weeks.  My 10 ride fare has lasted me twice that.
I am thankful that my dad and I got one of the last trains out of Penn Station last night before the MTA suspended service and all hell broke loose.  Seriously MTA and ConEd??  On the busiest travel night of the year for LIRR/NJ Transit/Amtrak?  Seriously??
I am thankful for all of the hardworking linesmen who have been on the job non-stop since Sandy hit.
I am thankful for all of the first responders, many of whom came home to greater destruction than they had left.
I am thankful to the National Guard and the Army Corp. of Engineers for making right what Sandy put wrong.  I am sure sitting at a stop light monitoring the generator that is keeping it powered was never what the young person who signed up for the National Guard thought he'd be doing to maintain national security, but it's appreciated.
I am thankful to all my baby-having friends.  I am thankful for all of the baby faces that fill my Facebook News Feed everyday.  NYC can be a pretty cynical place, but the moment I see a little baby face it is hard to be a cynic.  Video is even better.
I am thankful for all of the opportunities that lie ahead and all that I am leaving behind.  I have lived in NYC for 9 years and that time has not been wasted.  No matter the experience, good or bad, I am happy to have had it as it has led me to where I am now.  I am thankful for the friends and acquaintances that I have made along the way.  People come and go from our lives, but the impact of their time with us is forever.

I am thankful for my family's support during this time of change for J and I.  When I talked to a stranger 3.5 years ago, I would never have thought that this is where that interaction would lead me-but here I am and I am so grateful I stopped and said, ever so eloquently, "What?"/ stink face.

I am thankful that I live in a country that celebrates Thanksgiving.  I am thankful for what it is intended to be and for the spirit behind it.  

See Lincoln's Thanksgiving Proclamation of 1863

I know that wherever I may live I will always keep the tradition of this day.  And I will always, even if it means FedEx-ing poultry or going on the turkey black market, have turkey.  Thanksgiving goose??  That's downright un-American.

They are the gracious gifts of the Most High God, who, while dealing with us in anger for our sins, hath nevertheless remembered mercy. It has seemed to me fit and proper that they should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged as with one heart and one voice by the whole American People. I do therefore invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving and Praise to our beneficent Father who dwelleth in the Heavens.

-President Abraham Lincoln

I Am Definitely Meeting Hugh Grant...

"Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends..." -Love Actually (2003)

I said that I would be diligent with this blog and write every week-and here we are not even 2 months of installments in, and I have skipped a week. Quelle horror!  I could blame it on my continued Manhattan Magical Mystery Tour which dropped me at my cousin's doorstep on Election Night... so I will!  
Big shout out to my cousin Matthew and his girlfriend Micha for hosting me, bag lady extraordinaire, on my final night of the MMMT.  It was so fun spending the night Karl Rove had a complete meltdown on national television with you guys.  My major disappointment on Election Night, by the way, had nothing to do with the outcome and everything to do with the fact that my polling place had run out of 'I VOTED' stickers.  I mean, really.  If I have to go through polling place hell, I should at least get a sticker.  And why is it that there are always WAY more people in the A-M line than N-Z?  Going to vote tends to be more painful than going to the doctor.  They should not only give out stickers, but lollipops too.  It's impossible to be annoyed when you get a lollipop for your trouble.  I am also fascinated by the people who make the projections as to who wins a state.  Sometimes I think that I would have paid more attention to math if I had realized how advanced skills were applied in the real world.  But let's be honest, probably not.  Math was never my forte.  But Social Studies was- and so I love Election Night.  Actually, I mostly love the Tuesday after the first Monday in November because it signals the end of the long national nightmare known as election season.  
I am very interested in learning about the British electoral process.  Maybe it is less dysfunctional than our own.  What little I know about British government I have learned from Hugh Grant as Prime Minister in 'Love Actually'.  I probably should do some more research.  I am pretty sure that 'Elizabeth' is no longer accurate.  Which brings me to the topic of today's post; my immersion in British culture via Hollywood.
I have decided that a most excellent way to prepare myself for my impending relocation is to think back on the many movies that I have seen that take place primarily in London.  Among these are-Cartoons: The Great Mouse Detective, 101 Dalmations; Musicals: Mary Poppins, My Fair Lady, Oliver, Sweeny Todd, A Hard Day's Night, Help!; Black and White Movies with Predatory Males: Gaslight, Witness for the Prosecution, Suspicion, Dial M for Murder; Movies with Tennis: Match Point, Wimbledon; Post-Apocolyptic Movies: 28 Days Later; a genre I will call simply 'Hugh Grant': Four Weddings and A Funeral, Notting Hill, Bridget Jones's Diary, About A Boy, Love Actually, & Bridget Jones-The Edge of Reason; and (in a category by itself): To Sir With Love.  How else should one prepare oneself for a new culture?  This is full immersion, right here!  
From the above I can conclude that much of London's lower class sings its days away to escape their sorrows.  The men are predatory and like to keep their women subservient by making them feel like they are going crazy, or they are framing them for murder.  In the case where the woman is wealthier than her husband, the man does this to get his wife's money.  Tennis will be an integral part of my life.  I may turn into a zombie.  I will meet Hugh Grant, he is everywhere.  And finally, unless Sidney Poitier is my child's teacher, said child is screwed.
I now feel fully prepared for whatever London may throw at me.  And if I'm not, James Bond will be just around the corner to save me... 

 I mean... YOWZA!

Manhattan Magical Mystery Tour

So Sandy stayed the course and hit the tri-state area.  And not in an anti-climactic, 'they totally got us all psyched out for nothing', 'weathermen are SO dramatic', 'if I were as inaccurate at my job as weathermen are I would have been fired years ago' kind of way.  Sandy hit in such a way that when I turned on the television last night they were having a hurricane relief benefit concert FOR MY AREA.  Talk about surreal.  The only solace that I have is that Brad Pitt didn't show up.  If he had walked onto the screen then I would have known that we were in real trouble.  But the very honest truth is, that for many of us living in Manhattan, we barely felt more than a slight inconvenience.  In a sense, there are two very different cities at the moment.  As illustrated by the lovely graphic above-below 39st St. on the East Side and below 31st St. on the West Side lost power.  Some parts of the Upper East Side, where I used to live, also lost power due to flooding.  But for much of Manhattan, things were fairly normal by Wednesday.  I am also happy to report that as of today, most of the rest of the island has had power restored as well.  People were inconvenienced but very few were harmed or lost anything of real value.  The same cannot be said for the outer boroughs of New York City and the Jersey Shore.  Things aren't great on Long Island either, my parents are still without power, although the Long Island Power Authority is predicting restoration by Nov. 7th at the latest.  From the news reports, it appears that those along the shoreline in Brooklyn and Staten Island are in great distress.
If any of you reading would like to do something to help, I direct you to the American Red Cross.  A donation to the ARC will benefit not only those in need now, but those in need any time a disaster hits.  American Red Cross Donation Page
Of course, amid all of the Sandy-chaos, J and I still had a move to take care of.  Our furniture delivery was postponed, quickly followed by our actual move.  Unable to reach our management company, we figured this would not pose much of an issue-if we weren't able to move, we doubted the new tenant would be able to move either!  We were able to quickly reschedule our move for Thursday and found that the storage company (keeping our things until we find permanent residence in London) receives deliveries!  This was excellent news.  Tuesday night J's sister came to stay with us as she lives in what quickly became referred to as Manhattan's hottest new neighborhood 'SoPo' (South of Power).  This was especially nice as it gave us all some extra time to spend with one another before J left for London on Friday.  We spent the next evening figuring out what needed to be put in long term storage, what needed to be shipped to corporate housing, and what needed to stay with us.  For me, that meant a month's worth of clothing, shoes, etcetera.  I thought it would be one suitcase.  But- no.  I've been traipsing about Manhattan ever since with one rolling suitcase, 2 Vera Bradley bags, my purse, and a bag for laundry.  (On the laundry-the money card machine for the laundry in our building stopped working during the hurricane-we did not know this until basically the night before the move at 9 PM.  That was a really great moment, let me tell you.)
I am officially a hobo.
Which brings me to the Manhattan Magical Mystery Tour that I embarked upon Thursday after work.  J's company had gotten us a hotel room for the night before and of his departure.  This was really fabulous.  The original plan was for me to head out to LI to live with my parents for the month of November, but as they are currently sans power, we decided it might be a better idea for me to stay in the city.  Also because, until yesterday, there would have been no way for me to get there and back as the Long Island Railroad was not running.  So first stop on the MMMT: Palace Hotel (so Gossip Girl).  Next stop: my awesome friend Ray's apt.  Ray was heading to Vegas and saw that I was possibly a little bit homeless.  So he offered up his apt.  In a nutshell: Ray ROCKS!  Where I go from here?  Who knows!  Hopefully power will be back on Long Island soon.  But if not, and you see a girl walking the streets of Hell's Kitchen with one rolling suitcase, 2 Vera Bradley bags, a purse, and some laundry-offer her your couch.  She will repay you with copious amounts of wine and excellent company.  She may even rearrange your closets for you...

A Franken-WHHAAAAA??

"I am not a Frankenstein. I'm a Fronkensteen." -Young Frankenstein

So not to alarm you and all, but apparently it's the end of times.  Those Mayans may have just had it right.  Never in my life did I think it possible for a hurricane to combine with a snow storm.  I mean, these are weather events that occur in two completely separate seasons.  But seasons, ha!  Who and I kidding?  Global warming is a bitch...

Normally I would not really care all that much that a 'Frankenstorm' was slowly making its way to NYC.  I would just join all the rest of the city on line (that's right, ON line) at Whole Foods and Trader Joe's to stock up on my artisian, organic, locally grown hurricane basics.  Some places run out of water, batteries, and bread when a big storm is predicted.  New Yorkers buy the stores out of tapenade, cheese, and wine.  Oh!  And do not forget the hummus!  So normally I would not care and I would pretend to get all worried about the potential destruction of this, the greatest city on Earth... and then just use the resulting mid-level rainstorm as a good excuse to do absolutely nothing for a day.

However...

Next week is the week that J and I pack up our apartment and send it along to London ahead of us.  Next week is the week that we are supposed to receive our new bedroom furniture exactly one day before the actual move.  And the actual move is happening on the last day of our lease.  Sooo... we REALLY don't have any room for error in this equation.  But it seems like there is a nasty little Halloween trick on its way north from the Caribbean to throw a kink in our plans.  

I would just like you to know, Sandy, that I do.not.have.the.patience.for.this.  I am not angry at you, no.  I am just disappointed.  Disappointed that you would have chosen THIS path in life.  We had such great hopes for you.  We thought you might settle down close to home.  But no, you had to start making eyes at that blizzard from out West.  Decided to go join him in that great big city up North.  I don't know where we went wrong with you Sandy.  Why are you hurting us like this?

Despite our apparent impending doom, things are in full swing transfer-wise.  We found a new tenant for our apartment and successfully transferred over our lease.  I informed work of the move and gave my notice.  We have been spending almost all of our free time with our NY friends, making the most of these last few weeks with them.  

This move has really brought home the fact that J and I are so lucky.  We have both lived in the city for between 9 and 10 years and have accumulated a truly fantastic set of friends and acquaintances.  We are going to miss them all dearly.

And as for you, 'Sandy Frankenstorm'... maybe rethink the path you're on.  Don't make us ground you... we all know what happens to hurricanes that get grounded.

Hurry Up... and Wait

"Hurry up and wait."  This is a phrase that I have heard often in the past few years.  It can apply to many a different situation, most often I see it applied to wedding planning.  I am not planning a wedding but I am beginning to get a comprehensive understanding of the phrase.  (Off topic: I will be amazing at planning a wedding when I do.  I will literally enjoy planning the wedding more than the actual reception itself.  Literally.)   Actually, 'beginning' is not the correct word.  I am in the midst of, deep in the muck and mire of, understanding the phrase.  The only problem is that I have not embraced it.  I am at war with it.

For anyone who knows me, I am an organizer and planner.  I get giddy about lists.  I make lists of lists.  I once made a list of 'What to Pack' for my little brother.  He was in third grade and we were going to Disney World.  I was in fifth grade.  It was approximately 2 weeks before we were to leave.  Little girls with that kind of personality have so many friends...

The Container Store is my church, Staples is my temple.  The more stressed/out of my comfort zone I am, the more organized I am.  Except... for the last 3 months.  Ever since J found out that he was definitely, most probably, "no I swear the offer is coming your way shortly", "London HR just needs to simply email NYC HR", being transferred to London; my planning skills have seemingly failed me.  Most of it is because while this is a huge life shift for us, we are not the ones in control of it.  A large multi-national bank is the one in control and they really do NOT seem to care that the person they are transferring across an ocean has a girlfriend with control issues.  I think it's a little insensitive of them, frankly.

What I am not good at, is waiting.

I would love for someone to say, "OK, X is happening on this date at this time-go, prepare!"  That is totally not what's happening.  Everything is much more fluid.  Dates change, things don't go as smoothly as you thought or things happen much more quickly than you thought.  You rush to prepare for one thing only to wait the next three weeks for it to be completed by others who clearly do not have the same sense of urgency as you do.  I've often felt frozen.  Feeling that there must be some way to take more control over the situation, and yet unable to figure out how.  People asking questions that I myself would love the answers to.  It's when 'PANIC AND RUN AWAY' overcomes 'STAY CALM AND CARRY ON'.  'Panic and Run Away' also results in either A.) Over consumption of wine; B.) Crying; or C.) The glorious combination of crying brought on by over consumption of wine.

I've been getting better at 'Stay Calm and Carry On', though.  I think that's one thing that this whole experience has taught me.  There are times that you just can't plan.  Or that planning actually works against you.  Sometimes you just need to rely on the fact that you will be able to handle whatever comes your way as it is happening.  Or that maybe you need to trust that those surrounding you will take care of the things that they say they will.  In giving up a bit of that control, maybe you gain something in return.  I don't know what that is.  Not yet.  But when I figure it out, I'll let you know.

Hey, House Hunters International: Pick Us!!

This post is my bid to be on one of the truly unifying shows of our time, House Hunters.  No matter where you are, what party you are at, someone is spewing some House Hunters love.  This show brings people together.  Completely divergent political views?  Can agree on love for HH.  Totally different religious views?  Can get together on addiction to HH.  HH should get the Nobel Peace Prize.  Want to divert some conflict?  House Hunters! 
Thank you HGTV for creating House Hunters and then realizing that you could only improve upon the formula by expanding it across the globe, thereby creating House Hunters International.  If you are one of the 3 people out there who has not already heard of or watched this show, the formula is genius in its simplicity.  Take a single adult, couple, or family and follow them as they visit three potential dwellings in a country different from the one they are currently residing in.  The 'hunters' are not always American, the main requirement is that they are moving from one county to another, be that from America or elsewhere.
House Hunters International is WAY, and I mean exponentially 'way', better than just plain House Hunters.  Here are the reasons why:
1.) You hardly ever hear the words "granite counter tops".  If I watch one more HH where the 22 year old buying her first property demands "granite counter tops", I swear to God I am going to smash something.  Most likely my TV or wine glass-whichever is closer.
2.) No double sinks-you don't often hear this request either, but I laugh and laugh when some misguided soul adds this to his/her wish list.  I don't understand why people need double sinks.  J and I have one sink.  It has never caused a problem.  I don't think that people who can't make one sink work should be together.  It should be like the litmus test of marriage.  Most of the world must think double sinks are rather absurd as well, as they are rarely mentioned and hardly ever an option.
3.) I feel validated in every housing choice that I have had to make while in NYC.  This is actually the best thing about having lived in Manhattan-I am prepared for almost any living space.  You will often find American expats on HHI complaining about the size of... well, everything!  This is because they are used to having a kitchen the size of my first 3 apartments combined.  Any New Yorker watches HHI and goes, "That looks great!"  Not saying that the apartments are bigger in Paris, but they are usually comparable.
4.) Exposure to different living styles.  If you watch this show enough, you will never again be the American who walks into a European bathroom and shrieks over the bidet.  You will not stare quizzically at the washing machine in the kitchen (or bathroom).  You will not lament over the lack of walk-in closets.  
5.) The total awe one feels in watching an episode where the 'hunter' has just up and quit his/her job and moved to a tropical island.  People actually do this.  Amazeballs.
So J and I are moving to London and we think we would be perfect for this show.  We are not all together hideous; his hair alone should get us some TV time.  We have amazing personalities.  Just ask us, we'll tell you.  We will not request granite counter tops OR double sinks, but I guarantee you that we will find something to disagree on in an entertaining way.  So what do you say HGTV?  Call me maybe?

Never Talk To Strangers

Never talk to strangers... a rule to live by.  One that we can recall from our earliest memories.  A concerned parent, leaning over to impart that all important piece of information, the thing that will keep you safe from all evil and danger from that point forward.  Never talk to strangers.  "OK," says wide eyed, five year old Colleen.
But I did.  I talked to a stranger.  A real, true, honest to goodness stranger.  On the street.  In front of a C-Town.  I was 28.  So there may be a difference here.  Developmentally appropriate, even.  But still, I talked to a stranger, and now I'm moving to London.
Maybe it wasn't quite so simple as that.  Maybe between the time I talked to that stranger and now (the moving to London part), there were a couple of dates.  Maybe there were more than a couple.  Like 3.5 years worth.  Maybe I fell in love which has clearly skewed my sense of all things reasonable.  Maybe this is reasonable!  Who knows anymore?  All I know is that I am leaving the city and country I love to start a new adventure. 
I am pretty much OK with this. 
New York is great.  It's the "city so nice, they named it twice".  The "Big Apple".  It's "the center of the universe", right?  But what if it isn't?  In fact, I've been chilling out on this planet long enough to know that it probably most definitely isn't.  And at age 31, maybe it's time to really get out there and explore some of ... well if not the universe, at least the planet.  Why not take advantage of circumstances beyond my control?  Learn a few things.  Step outside of my comfort zone, if you will.
So this is going to be what this blog is about.  The fun, the excitement, the trials, and tribulations of moving to and living in a new country (England).  In a new continent (Europe).  And my explorations of said country and continent.  Granted, it's not Zimbabwe.  I don't even need to learn a new language.  But for me, it's a big change that brings with it all kinds of new challenges. 
So if you have found yourself here and think you would like to spend a few minutes in my odd-ball goofy little world, please read on.  Enjoy the journey...