Bon Appetit!!

About 3 weeks ago I had a very frustrating moment.  Everything that I was planning on making for dinner made me want to say, "We're having that AGAIN?!?!"... to myself.  I thought, "This cannot be good.  J and I are not even married yet and I am hitting my meal wall??"  So I made a decision.  For the following week I would make something new for dinner every night.  I would also try a couple of new things for lunch.

Most days, I eat all three meals at our flat.  Typical ex-pat day: I have breakfast in the morning with J, then go to the gym or get lost in some project on the computer.  Then it's time for lunch.  I don't often go out for lunch unless it is with someone.  In the afternoon I may go back to the gym, go for a run, do some exploring, or end up falling into another project black hole on the computer.  It is amazing how much time 're-naming' all of your Pinterest pins can take.  This is pretty much the type of thing that only someone with borderline OCD would do, but I'm pretty sure I have mentioned... that's me!  I will spend hours making sure all of my file names are formatted exactly the same, or all of my photos are labeled in the same way.  At least it gives me something to do when it is raining and cold out.

So having decided that the following week would be an adventure in the culinary arts, I set about choosing my menu.  I scrolled through Pinterest and settled on the following:

Monday: Supremes de Volaille aux Champignons (Chicken Breasts w/ Mushroom & Cream)
Sides: Zucchini Spears & Roasted Butternut Squash
Tuesday: Chilean Salmon w/ Avocado Cream Sauce
Sides: Roasted Avocado over Mixed Lettuce & Couscous (Recipe No Longer Available)
Wednesday: Baked Cod w/ Summer Vegetables
Side: Rice & Broccoli
Thursday: Spinach & Tomato Chicken
Side: Tagliatelli
Friday: OUT (We went for Turkish after going to 'To Kill A Mockingbird')

I really enjoyed trying new recipes and boy did we land on a keeper!!

Monday: The Chicken Breasts w/ Mushroom & Cream was TO DIE FOR.  I shouldn't have even questioned the fabulousity of it as it was a Julia Child recipe.  J was in LOOOOVE.  In fact, I would recommend this dish to any woman looking to woo a mate.  I have heard of something called "Wedding Chicken", well... THIS is "Honeymoon Chicken"!

Chicken Breasts w/ Mushroom & Cream Sauce (Roasted Butternut Squash & Zucchini Spears)

Tuesday: The Chilean Salmon w/ Avocado Cream Sauce was very good.  The Roasted Avocado over Mixed Lettuce and Couscous was somewhat of a disappointment.  I substituted quinoa for the couscous and that part was still yummy.  But the roasted avocado... I had such high hopes... and it failed me.  The recipe says to make sure the avocado is ripe or it will taste bitter after roasting.  Well, our avocado was perfectly ripe and soft but it was still bitter.  The initial taste was good, but the lingering bitter kind of ruined it for me.

I may try this one again in the States.  I don't trust these avocados!

Wednesday: We really tucked into the Baked Cod w/ Summer Vegetables.  If I were making this in the US, I would have done heirloom tomatoes, zucchini, and yellow squash.  But, here in the UK, I can't find yellow squash or heirloom tomatoes.  I used a regular red tomato.  I added large chunks of red onion.  I left out the olives.  I would have liked to have included them, but the grocery budget had already been hit and exceeded.  I was not about to push it any further for a bottle of olives.  I served it with white rice that I cooked down with garlic and butter added into the water.  We had white rice in the house.  Ideally, I would have made this with brown rice.  The broccoli was just for me as J does not eat broccoli.  It was sauteed with garlic and olive oil.

About to go into the oven.

This was very tasty.  It has earned a spot in the rotation!

Thursday: I am not sure what happened to this dish.  It had the potential to be great, and honestly, I don't think I have given up on it yet.  It looked beautiful.  It smelled wonderful.  But the taste was... a little bland.  For me, it was actually fine.  In the future, however, I would kick it up a notch if I really wanted it to be fantastic.  J felt that it was a little bland for his taste, and honestly, if I wanted to serve it to a larger group, I would say the same.  The recipe did not give any side suggestions, and I was feeling the yen for pasta, so I served it with tagliatelli.  This dish improved with time.  I had leftovers and those flavors that hadn't intensified on first serving really came together the next day.

Has potential.

So that was our week in meals!  It was, overall, a very delicious week.  Sometimes it was a little stressful as I was juggling new recipes left and right, but it was fun.  Because I had to buy a number of staple items that we had lost in the move and not needed since, the grocery bill was out of budget for the week.  Buying two kinds of fish also added to the greater than usual total and quinoa is not cheap.  But if you are going to spend money on something it might as well be on good, clean eating.  Although not all of these recipes were diet recipes, per se, all parts of the meals were made from fresh/real ingredients.  I think both J and I enjoyed our culinary adventure!

I will leave you with a few more pictures from my evening with Julia!

Now I Ain't Sayin' You A Gold Digger, You Got Needs

Yesterday morning J and I woke up and the first thing he said to me was, "I was just dreaming that I was playing squash all night.  I need to go take a shower."  At 6:45 AM, this is something that the brain takes a while to process.  Are you taking a shower because it is morning and that is what one does?  Or are you taking a shower because of the squash??

My response to him, "Well, were you winning?"

Then I turned on the television to a weather report being filmed in Sherwood Forest.  And I was like this:

I think David says it all right here.

I half expected Robin Hood and his Merry Men to pop out from behind a tree.

That's the way it feels sometimes here-there are so many things that, as an American, really only seemed to exist in fairy tales.  But here, they are real.  Queens, princes, castles, dungeons, enchanted forests, and bespectacled children in uniform abound.  There is a school nearby that makes their students dress like Madeline and I live with Paddington Bear.  So, "Is this real life?", indeed.

Falkner House, spring and winter uniforms.

This past Sunday, J and I went on a day trip to Oxfordshire.  I had embarked upon the trip very much hoping to visit Blenheim Palace, but had thought that we would be able to explore Oxford as well.  Once we got to Oxford, we learned that this would not be possible.  Blenheim Palace really requires a full day.  Since that was all we had, and it was gorgeous and sunny out, I thought it might be the better choice to go out to the palace and enjoy the beautiful day on its grounds.  I had read that there would be a British Civil War reenactment taking place that day and had a feeling that the atmosphere would be festive.  Boy am I glad we chose Blenheim!  An easy 30 minute bus ride from the center of Oxford to the Palace Gates and we were there.

These yellow flowers in the background were everywhere!

Walk from the gates to the house.

The walk from the Palace Gates to the East Entrance is about 10 minutes, and that is at a decent clip.  If you are ever in the market for one of these estates, street noise will never be an issue.

I should probably mention that this estate is the only non-royal, non-episcopal country house in England to hold the distinction of 'palace'.  It has never been occupied by a King or Queen.  It was gifted to the First Duke of Marlborough as a way of celebrating victory over the French during the Wars of Spanish Succession.  John Churchill (last name ring any bells?), 1st Duke of Marlborough, was the military commander who led the Allied forces into battle in 1704 at Blindheim (Blenheim).  He personally received the surrender of the leader of the French forces.  Queen Anne thought this deserved some kind of recognition.  So while today people get medals; J.C. received the Manor of Woodstock, and funds to build a new estate on the site.  I guess the Manor of Woodstock was a fixer upper.  And fix her up they did.  Because after some considerable strife, this was the result:

North Facing Facade

Eat it, Gatsby!

South Facing Facade

The problem with Blenheim is well... it kind of left the family house poor.  Outside of the funding provided by the Crown to build the palace, the 1st Duke was not that wealthy.

As a whole, though, the dynasty Marlborough was basically able to hold their own through to the 5th Duke.  The 5th Duke of Marlborough (1766-1840) ruined EVERYTHING.  He was the.worst.  By the time he died, the family was selling priceless art left and right.  Then they had to sell their books.

And this was all just to make rent.  Because while Queen Anne had gifted the land to the 1st Duke; to this day, the family still needs to pay rent on it.  It's basically like if your parents give you a car and then say, "But we're only taking care of the down payment.  You need to make the monthly payments, pay for gas and maintenance, and the insurance."  It was exactly like that.  So they can't even make rent, and this is a house that needs serious maintenance.  By this point, the place is over 100 years old.

Blenheim Palace was a serious 'Love It or List It' case by the time we get to the 9th Duke, Charles.  He decided he was going to 'Love It' and save the place by whatever means necessary.  Charles was no dummy.  He had no money... but you know who had obscene amounts of money by this point in history, 1896?  Americans.  Americans named Vanderbilt.  So Charles married Consuelo Vanderbilt.  He didn't love her.  She detested him.  Her mother was certifiable and locked her in her room until Consuelo agreed to the union.  Directly after a marriage ceremony that took place in NYC, a dowry contract was signed in which the Duke got $2.5 Million; 50,000 shares of railroad stock; and both Consuelo and the Duke got an annual income of $100,000 EACH for life.  Apparently, on the carriage ride from the church to the wedding celebration the Duke is all, (yawn) "Whatever, you know I don't love you, right?  I hate America, we're never coming back here.  Where's my money?" So.  The 9th Duke saved Blenheim Palace.  But you know who really saved Blenheim?  Consuelo.

Consuelo was also rather ahead of her time, because in 1906, after 2 children and a full palace renovation, she decided that she just couldn't take it anymore and shocked everyone in British and American society by leaving the Duke.  She went on to marry a Frenchman.  I can only imagine what that was like after 10 years of a loveless marriage to a Brit.

As they say, "Git it gurl!" (Although they probably didn't say that in 1906.)

If you couldn't already tell, I am a complete history nerd and could probably write you a book about Consuelo and Blenheim.  But I won't.  All I will add is that Winston Churchill was born there and if you go, you can see portraits of him as a dashing young soldier before he got all jowly.  If you would like to read up more on Blenheim you can visit the below links.

Blenheim Palace Official Website
Wikipedia: Blenheim Palace
Consuelo & Alva: An Early Story of Celebrity


One last one:

It's Raining Again

So I can't believe this but... I only have 13 more days in London before I return to NY.  And writing that just made it seem even more real than it already was.  In case you need a little refresher (I would certainly need one if I were not living it), I have to return to NY because I am currently in London on a Visitor's Visa.  In July J and I will get married (Oh.my.GAWD.) in a civil ceremony.  At which point, I get to change over all of my documents to reflect my new name.  I am sure this will go smoothly... how do you type sarcasm?  Then I get to fill out a ream's worth of paperwork and submit it to UK Border Patrol for my Dependent Visa.  This process will most likely take from mid-July to November or even December.  In some ways, this is good.  I have wedding planning to do for our church wedding which will be in 2014 and marathon training to conquer. 

You should see what comes up when you Google 'Running Bride'.

I figure that it's probably a good thing that I am training for a marathon while all of this is going on.  It gives me something to focus on that is not immigration or wedding related and it will be an excellent way to relieve the bucket loads of stress that I will inevitably feel as I deal with one bureaucratic agency after the next.  I am hoping this will prevent me from going completely postal on some poor unsuspecting florist or stationer as they attempt to question my color palette or font choices.  Even though J and I will be legally married in July, we will not feel really and truly married until it is in the church.  It seems the Catholic Church agrees with us and let me tell you, that is a WHOLE other bag of worms.  This blog may very well turn into "How to Get Married Across Two Continents and Not Lose Your Mind" quite soon.

She doesn't really look that stressed, honestly.

In my last post I talked about how my mom came over and I found my dress.  Well, since then I have found my shoes and my bridesmaids!  I had a lot of fun thinking about how I would ask the girls as I was so far away and I came up with a slightly different angle for each one.  Luckily for me, they all said yes!  I am going to need all the help I can get with this shindig.  Three of them have already witnessed me having the meltdown of all meltdowns (picture hysterical speech that may have gotten me on Gawker/Jezebel if You Tube existed back then) when I was in charge of our sorority's recruitment so I know they will be able to handle me as bride.  Thankfully for us all, I have matured a bit in the last 12 years.
But enough of that.  This weekend was a Bank Holiday weekend in the UK.  It was actually pretty great because it coincided with the US's Memorial Day, so everyone had an extra day off!  Huzzah for the unofficial start of summer!  J and I did not travel outside of England, but we certainly made the most of the wonderful sunny weather that we had for the majority of the weekend.
I say the majority of the weekend because Friday was not sunny.  Friday, was a misery.  And this was unfortunate.  J and I had tickets to a production of 'To Kill A Mockingbird' at the Regent's Park Open Air Theatre.  I was super psyched to see this because one of my favorite actors, Robert Sean Leonard, was playing Atticus Finch.

I cannot handle the end of this movie.  I just can't.

Once I got over the horror of realizing that RSL was apparently old enough to be playing Atticus (Dead Poets Society was released 24 years ago, I do not lie.), I turned to J and told him that we must go!  So we did.  It was excellent.  I cannot say enough about this performance.  It was beautifully done and I was impressed by the dedication to the characters by the cast of Brits.  I feel this story is so American, and yet the underlying themes really are universal.  RSL did a fabulous job with the courtroom scene.  When you are trying to perform a roll created by Gregory Peck, the stakes are pretty high and I think Robert (we are on a first name basis now) met the challenge.  Too bad it was 45 degrees.  With intermittent rain.  But, the show must go on!  And so it did.  And it was worth the less than optimal weather.
On Saturday J and I had brunch with friends and went to see Roger Hodgson in concert at the Prince Albert Hall.  Now, it is important to note that outside of a couple of children, we were definitely the youngest people there.  But it was a blast!  The "Voice of Supertramp" sounded great.  I also REALLY enjoyed watching the audience.  Highly entertaining.  Our walk back home post-concert took a route avoiding all pubs and large masses of people as the Champions League Finals had been played that night.  J wanted to be able to watch the replay of the game, so it was necessary that no errant fan be seen lest he should give the result away.  We were successful and then discovered that we did not receive the channel that was broadcasting the replay.  Hmmmm... (slow clap) well played universe, well played.

Bayern Munich: Champions of the Champions League

TO BE CONTINUED...
Tomorrow I will write about our amazing trip to Blenheim Palace in Oxfordshire.  It truly deserves its own post.  The place is unbelievable.

I am so happy that we had such a beautiful long weekend.  Mostly because, well...

London: Where the People Drink on the Street

The Thames Foyer at The Savoy

 We had a VIP in London last week and it wasn't the Queen... although she was here for the Queen's Speech to open Parliament.  Which is actually a very cool thing.  She gets all dressed up and wears the Crown Jewels, or as I like to call it, "Her fancy hat."

How is this not a hat?

Anyways, I digress.  J and I were very excited to welcome my mother to our new home town.  The guest room has been broken in and deemed acceptable (we even bought pillows) so we are ready for anyone else who would like to drop by!  I was thinking about having my mom do a guest post on her experience here, but then I thought that it would probably feel like having to write a report for homework after a school trip, which is 'no bueno'.  Did anyone ever like writing those?  I didn't, and I LIKED school.  So, since I have decided not to give my mother homework, I will be the one to fill you in.

Preparing for my mom's arrival started with a field trip for J and I.  We took a bus across the River Thames to Clapham Junction.  Why would one do that?  To go to the Asda.  Now, the problem with London is the same thing as the problem with New York.  They have very few, if any, discount big box stores.  However, by the time I left NYC, there were 2 KMarts and a Target in Manhattan.  And there were several other Target Stores easily reachable by public transportation in Queens and Brooklyn.  In London... not so much.  If I could single-handedly lead a campaign to get Target to open a store here, I would.  And maybe, really, I should.  I have the time.  The closest thing London has to a discount store like KMart is Asda.  Asda was actually bought by Walmart several years ago.  When I knew my mom was coming to visit, I figured it might be nice to get a couple of basics.  You know, like, pillows.  A mattress pad.  That sort of thing.  Being the money savvy chick that I am (hahaha), I told J that a trip to Asda was in order.  So we went.  And... it was less than overwhelming.  But!  We got what we were looking for and J bought a whole bunch of candy bars for super cheap, so I guess one could call that a successful trip.

The Clapham Junction Asda looked NOTHING like this.

My mom arrived on a Wednesday evening and quickly became master of her Oyster card!  The subway line that serves Heathrow has a stop quite near our apartment, so we jumped into public transportation right away.  Even though it probably only seemed like 5:00 in the afternoon to Mom, we promptly took her out for a very British dinner of pizza!  Then it was off to bed as we had a very busy day ahead of us.

The main reason my mom came to visit was to help me make my final decision in choosing a wedding dress!  I had done the initial search alone, but now that I had things pretty well narrowed down, it was time for the expert opinion of Mom.  So Thursday saw us walking up Bond St. bright and early on our way to Pronovias, where I tried on 2 dresses.  From there we went to a boutique in Islington called Angelica Bridal.  It is on a very cute alley called Camden Passage with a cozy coffee shop next to it.  We got there a little early so I took my mom on a tour of a grocery store!  Now that might not be your usual tourist destination, but my mom appreciated it.  Things are different here!  It's interesting.  I swear.  After our second appointment it was off to The Savoy where we were scheduled to have tea.

Word to the wise, or anyone planning on visiting London.  There are a TON of places to have tea.  And they all have their own special way of doing things.  Everyone wants to go to tea at The Ritz.  This is where J and I went my first week here.  BUT.  After having been to The Savoy... I like it better.  It's a much more personal experience.  Seatings are done differently, they have a couple of slots every 15 minutes as opposed to one mass seating every couple of hours.  This makes for a more intimate feeling and greater individualized attention from your server.  The food is better as well.  The feeling is quality over quantity at The Savoy.  It's still a large hotel tea, but if that's what you are looking for, I highly recommend it.  Also, all of the servers are beautiful.  The men, the women.  Their hiring practices might be illegal, but the staff is nice to look at- that's all I'm saying.

So.Yum.

The rest of the day was spent strolling up to Covent Garden where there were some wonderful street performers working, walking over to Piccadilly Circus, and perusing the wares at Fortnum & Mason.  It was all-in-all a productive (and fun) day!  And there was still more adventures to be had.

On Friday we had one more dress shop to look at.  Morgan Davies in Islington is a lovely store and their salesgirls are great.  They really make you feel comfortable.  I thought this was where I was going to get my dress.  I had remembered a dress from this store as being my favorite.  But, when I tried it on again, I didn't love it as much.  I was surprised!  I had started to picture this dress as "the one" and here I was thinking that it maybe wasn't!  This called for a pint.  After we were finished at Morgan Davies my mom and I headed for a pub near by.  And it was here that I decided to go with a dress that I had tried on the day before.  I was so happy to have my mom there when I made my decision.  I never wanted to have a whole gaggle of girls around me when I went to find my wedding dress, but I always wanted my mother to be involved... and she was!  The rest of the day was spent exploring the shops along Regents Street, Oxford Street, and Marylebone High Street.  Since my dad wasn't there, we decided to check out all of the department stores and the places that we thought he probably wouldn't be that interested in.  I was so excited to show my mom my absolute favorite store in London.  Liberty.  This store is FABULOUS and if you are ever here and visiting me, I am taking you as well.  We ended the day with drinks in Marylebone and dinner in Soho.  Mom got to experience Londoners in good weather, all standing on the street drinking so as to be able to soak up every last second of the temperate day.  It's really kind of bizarre.  They aren't smoking.  They're just standing outside and drinking.  Go figure.

Normal British Behavior

Saturday was the Whirlwind Landmarks of London tour.  J & I took mom down to Kings Rd. in Chelsea where we bought some deliciousness at the Saturday market outside of Partridges for lunch.  From there we headed over to Buckingham Palace, where Mom practiced her royal wave, and then walked through St. James's Park.  It is a really beautiful park that used to serve as the hunting grounds for King Henry VIII.  It is this sort of fact that just delights me.  I can now go to the former hunting grounds of King Henry VIII and buy a bag of potato chips to feed the squirrels.  I think if he knew that people were doing that, he would have us all beheaded.  From St. James's Park we went on to Parliament, Westminster Cathedral and Big Ben.  From Big Ben it was past Churchill's War Rooms and up to Trafalgar Square where we caught the Tube to Tower Bridge.  Mom was a trooper.  We really packed a TON of sightseeing into a very short period of time.  Granted it was of the, point and look variety, but without my dad being there, we didn't really want to explore too much!

It was a very nice weekend.  I was happy to see my mom and show her all of the things that I have grown to enjoy in my adopted home.  I loved that she really seemed to get a kick out of the people drinking on the street because that is something that still amuses me as well.  When you come from New York City, the beauty of London really strikes you.  Even though the weather might not be great, the architecture is and sometimes that's enough.

I can't wait for my dad to come or for my brother and his wife.  I really enjoy playing the tour guide.  It makes you re-appreciate the things that, even after only a couple of months, you may start to take for granted.  And many times someone with fresh eyes will make an observation or have a perspective that you don't, so it's a fun learning experience.  All this by way of saying-I hope we get more visitors!  So book your tickets now!

In Honor of Cinco de Mayo

Las Nubes de Holbox

It seems like many of the blogs I follow usually start with the poster apologizing for not keeping it more up-to-date.  Before I started this endeavor, I was the reader who would think to herself, 'Why can't this person just get their act together and post on a schedule?'  And then I became a blogger, albeit still in the most minor of leagues.  When I started, I hoped to post once a week.  Well... I guess I fully step into the part-time blogger universe in apologizing for not posting more often or even remotely following my original schedule.  The thing about being the one who has to write is, well, writing.  I can't claim to have a job that takes up all of my time and effort.  I can't say that I stare at a computer screen all day at work and the last thing that I want to do is look at one at home.  I don't have children who demand all of my energy.  The only thing that I can claim is that while I knew that there would be ups and downs to this life change, I didn't really think about how that might affect my blog.  While I am perfectly happy to write about all the funny, absurd, or random things that I observe and get to participate in, I am not as inclined to record the times when I feel lonely, sad, useless; generally out of sorts.  I've been feeling that way a bit lately, blame the weather I guess, so I haven't been too keen on writing 'A Sad American in London'.  No one wants to read about that!  But the weather has been getting better and I am dragging myself out of my funk, so here we are together again.

I really shouldn't be suffering from such doldrums as J & I recently went on our first trip since moving to London.  What fabulous European destination did we travel to?  MEXICO!  That's right.  Despite being a stone's throw away from the continent, we traveled across the pond to the United States and Mexico.  The reason was a good one, though.  J's sister was getting married on a small island north of Cancun called Holbox.  I must say that if you ever get the chance, the island is quite the experience.  If you take the correct road (more on that later) it is only about a 2 hour drive from the Cancun airport.  You drive through several small rural towns and arrive at a port city, Chiquila.  There you can park your car at a reasonable rate for however long you may need.  Find our friend, Mariano, and he may give you a good deal.  Beware, he may be 10 years old, but he is quite the wheeler dealer!  From Chiquila it is about a 20 minute ferry ride to the island of Holbox.  Once there, your transport is by golf cart.  These aren't just any golf carts, they're pretty souped up and go at a decent speed.  As there are no seat belts, be sure you hold onto the rope attached to the roof of the buggy in order to keep yourself from flying off the back as you head to your destination.  We stayed at the Hotel Las Nubes de Holbox.  It was absolutely gorgeous.  Tranquil does not even begin to describe it.  No TVs.  No telephones in the room.  Just you and nature.  This is not to say that hotel is not very nicely appointed.  It is.  The service and food are excellent.  The wedding could not have been held in a more perfect setting.

One item of note.  If you are ever going to attend a Peruvian wedding be sure to do several things.
#1) Do not be jet-lagged.
#2) Train like you would for an athletic event.
#3) Make sure you have at least 2 pairs of dancing shoes, because, baby, you are going to need them.

The ceremony started at 6:30 PM and I think it was close to 4:00 AM when the last party goers decided to call it a night.  We partied through 2 meals, one at 8:00 PM and one at 2:00 AM.  At midnight, all hell broke loose for "Crazy Hour".  Crazy Hour seems to occur just as everyone is starting to loose a little steam.  But as shoulders are starting to sag and feet are starting to hurt; suddenly, confetti is being thrown, silly string is being sprayed, someone's handed you a balloon and slapped a hat on your head and off you go again!  It was a fantastic celebration and the culmination of 3 days of fun for J's sister & her fiance, their family and friends.

Your fearless blogger.  Hot stuff, I know.

If you ever go to Holbox, a couple of things.
#1) Use the Google Map directions, not the directions with the handwritten map given to you by the guy at the rental car company.  The Google Map directions are correct and true and will not add an hour onto your trip by taking you on the longest possible route to the Libre.
#2) The Libre.  Take THE LIBRE.  Do not take the CUOTA.  If you happen to somehow end up on the Cuota, you will drive a good hour out of Cancun before you hit the toll.  Once you do hit it, you may be bewildered having thought you were on the Libre the entire time.  The toll of $35 will reassure you that no, you have taken the Cuota.  The toll taker will then inform you that you must continue on to the next town, about 20 minutes away, and connect to the Libre from there.  This will require you to drive another hour back towards Cancun before hitting the connection to Chiquila.
#3) Make sure you have a working phone on you.  This will come in handy if your car malfunctions and you need to get in touch with the rental car company.  If you don't have a working phone, pray to God you have a companion who has watched enough 'Top Gear' to be able to fix it on his (or her) own. 

But above all:
Once you arrive in Holbox, if you have fallen victim to scenarios 1-3, let all of it fall away and enjoy the beauty of the place.  Because, really, it is all worth it.  Especially if you are joining friends and family in celebration.

Since I have been so remiss in posting, I am hoping to do a double post this week.  This past weekend was a Bank Holiday here and J & I had a ton of fun doing very London-y things.  We are still not quite up to snuff on all of our Bank Holidays so we were unaware that we had one.  Which in turn meant that we didn't plan.  And that is the one thing around these parts, if you want to take advantage of all that Europe has to offer at a reasonable rate, you have to act fast and act early.  All part of the learning curve.  So now, we know. 

I Have a Mortal Enemy...

London: RED

I have a new mortal enemy.  Mortal enemy, thy name is hard water.

The definition of the phrase 'mortal enemy' is: NOUN, an enemy who wants to kill you.

Now, I am not really sure that hard water actually wants to kill me as it is not living and therefore unable to feel the passion that would be necessary to want to commit a murderous act.  Maybe it would be more accurate to say that hard water has a new mortal enemy-me.  If I could kill hard water, I would and I am doing my damnedest to figure out how to keep it from ruining my day.  EVERY.SINGLE.DAY.

It is very important for those reading to understand one thing.  I may have... just a touch... of OCD.  Just a bit.  It is not the type of thing that effects every single thing that I do and if I were to actually seek out some kind of intervention I would probably be told that I do not actually have OCD, so let's just call them peculiarities.  I like things to be lined up and linear.  My books need to be in some kind of height order.  They are alphabetized by author.  My closet is a rainbow.  Literally.  Because I hang everything according to color, collar, and sleeve length.  I get fixated on cleaning a specific thing or spot.  I believe Oprah was correct in stating that one should never see all of your bath things strewn about a bathroom and ideally everything is nicely hidden away.  I make lists.  I already know what I am packing for a trip that is 10 days away.  Like I said, I have peculiarities.

The above list of things that make me "special" also make me really, REALLY difficult to live with.  J and I dated for 3 years without having one fight.  We moved in together and we had a knock down, drag out fight within 48 hours of occupying our new home.  The good thing about living with someone is that it does make you a bit more aware of these things.  Things that you had always done alone and therefore hadn't realized how truly repetitive, nonsensical, or just plain annoying they really were.  So in living with J, I have calmed down about some things.  But the one thing that I cannot get over is spots on the counter.  Basically, kitchen cleanliness.  You may walk into our flat these days and notice a bit of dust.  Things are certainly still in a bit of disarray.  But the kitchen is clean.  It used to be that if I had spilled something on the counter, I could simply wet a paper towel with water and wipe it up.  What do all of the home magazines say?  Water is nature's best cleaner!  Yeah, it's nature's best cleaner if it isn't the one thing that is actually making your counter, floor, tile, mirrors, glass, you name it; a complete and total mess.  I get stressed just writing this.

Deep breaths.

So London has really hard water.  It's so hard, in fact, that you need to put special dishwasher salts in the dishwasher so that it runs efficiently and doesn't get clogged up.  You need to put special laundry tablets in the washer for the same purpose.  They have all kinds of de-scaling cleaning products.  They have special iron water.  Iron water is a thing that I think I may look into and here's why.  The other night I went to steam out a shirt.  It was a very light material, so I thought a quick steam would do the job better than ironing it.  I turned the iron on, moved the dial to steam and pressed the button.  What happened next was disgusting.  Hard little brown chunks of 'I do not know what' came flying out of the iron!  What the????  I pressed the button again.  More tiny brown chunks and then some bubbling brown water.  So the shirt didn't get steamed and I went to dinner looking like a disheveled hobo.  Later I Googled what was happening to the iron and I found out that it is the hard water.  It builds up in the iron and the minerals form hard deposits (little brown chunks) that then make the iron less efficient.  Apparently one can avoid having to go through a lengthy cleaning process by using distilled water.  That's a suggestion that's going to go over well.  "J?  We need to buy special water to iron."  Cue J laughing his face off.

Mostly, though, my everyday battles with hard water are in the kitchen and bathroom.  We have black counter tops and it acts like a chalk board to the water's minerals.  I could probably write a message on the counters in water.  I may try that tonight. 'NEED MILK'  Even if a little droplet flies while I am washing dishes (and water always flies when I am washing dishes) and lands on the counter, it leaves a mark and I want to scream.  Don't even start me on the marks it leaves on our glasses and Pyrex.  Every time we take a shower, I glare at the water as it forms little rivulets on the tile and glass partition.  We have a squeegee, but really... it is no match for this liquid enemy.

I see no end in sight for this war.  While I certainly win battles, I think hard water may be winning the war.  I think it's probably the reason why my face still resembles that of a 13 year old and my hair refuses to do anything close to what I would like it to.  Who knows.  What I do know is that it is slowly, drip by drip driving me insane.

My next post is likely to be much calmer and full of good stories.  Why?  Because I will have just come back from a lovely vacation to Mexico.  I will see sun!  I will feel warmth!  I will drink margaritas and have chilequiles every morning for breakfast!  Well maybe not margaritas for breakfast, but then again...

I may even forget about hard water.

It's Raining, It's Pouring...

It's raining.  Now you might think this is not such an abnormality in London, but it's really raining.  I can hear the drops-steady and beating on the skylights in our foyer and kitchen.  And that's the thing about the weather here-while the days certainly are gray and you may get a shower at points throughout, it is not often that you get a good long pouring rain.  If you want wind and driving rain, you are much more likely to get that in New York City.  When it rains in London, it's usually a drizzle and an umbrella is hardly necessary.  It will wreak havoc on your hair though.  Sometimes I think I would rather just get poured on and look a complete mess, mascara running, water seeping up my pant legs, than have had a light drizzle falling and look generally put together except for the knotty rat's nest that was my hair.  I don't feel like I've had a good hair day since I got here.  As I write, I am sitting, my head wrapped in Saran Wrap, with a mixture of avocado, egg and a bit of olive oil smeared in my hair.  According to Pinterest, this will make my hair smooth and shiny-we shall see.  I also have an acne mask on.  Within two weeks of getting here, my face has decided to time warp back to 1993-an excellent year for me and my skin.  I am convinced that it all has to do with the rain and humidity of this fine city.  I look on the pro-side, I will literally age backwards here.  Just call me Benjamin Button.  My fine lines will disappear and my need for moisturizers will cease to exist.  The con-side is random breakouts and hair that looks like I just stuck my finger in a socket.  I honestly don't know that it's worth it.  But the hope is that my hair and skin will gradually get used to this new climate and things will revert to normal.  In the meantime I will simply try every home remedy that I can find on Pinterest.  I am sure it will go "brilliantly"... as they say.

The one thing that I really wanted to share with you all regarding the weather here is well, the spirit of Londoners when it comes to it.  When I say Londoner I refer to born and bred, transplant, ex-pat, anyone who is currently living and or working in the greater London area.  The thing is, and this is a fairly logical way to approach it all but unexpected to me as a New Yorker, people go out no matter what.  And I'm not just talking 24 year olds going to the club on a Saturday night.  As long as it's not raining and it's not bitterly cold, Londoners sit outside at cafes and restaurants, stand outside of pubs, spend time in the parks, and generally enjoy time out of doors.  Even if it is gray and 43 degrees out, you will find couples seated outside having coffee or a group of young men sharing hookah outside of a Middle Eastern restaurant.  Walk by a pub around happy hour and there will be anywhere from 5-20 people standing outside enjoying a pint, and I am not just talking about smokers.  If the majority of your days are gray and it never really gets super hot then you aren't going to sit inside and wait for those days, you are going to make do with what you have.  I often felt that in NYC Spring, Fall, and most of Summer were so fabulous because the weather was great and everyone was outdoors.  But Winter could be absolute misery mainly because everyone was cooped up inside, simply waiting for when the weather would be pleasant again.  Knowing that you had the other side of the extreme, the sunny hot glorious beach weather just made you hate the winter even more.  In a land of no extremes, you approach things differently.  Granted, there will be very few days where I am walking around this summer in a tank top, shorts, and flip flops-but at least right now, I think I might be OK with that.

The one thing that does baffle me is the London runner.  And when I say this I mainly refer to the men.  They seem unaware that cold weather running gear exists.  The number of, again mainly men, that I see wearing COMPLETELY inappropriate clothing for 35 degree weather (shorts and a t-shirt or shorts and a light long sleeved shirt) is just ridiculous.  I want to stop these men and say, "Get thee to Under Armor, stat!"  I don't care how fast you run-it just baffles me.  The women seem to have it more together.  The only explanation that I can think of is that the weather here since I have arrived has been some of the coldest in years.  Last Monday was the coldest day in London since 1986, so maybe it's just a matter of the weather being inappropriately cold, and not the men being inappropriately attired.  I'm not sure though...  I believe this issue may require further research.

All in all I've been pleasantly surprised by the weather.  Yes it is gray and it is dark and it is doing a bit of a number on my drive to get out and do things, but I find if I make a list of things to see or do in the morning, that gets me out and about.

Today, however, no amount of rain can dampen my mood as J proposed last night.  Now, this may be a bit confusing as I have referred to J as my fiance in previous posts.  From the moment that J and I decided to make this move to London the understanding was that we were making a life decision and proceeded as such.  For the purposes of our relocation, and then subsequent issues with UK Border Patrol, J and I referred to each other as fiance.  However.  J had not formally proposed.  We hadn't gone shopping for rings together, a practice J does not condone, and we had never really talked about a timeline for how things would roll out once I was in London.  I truly had no idea when a proposal would occur or how.  I thought I had an idea of how he might like to do it, but that involved a trip that I did not see happening any time soon.  This said, it wasn't a matter of stress for me as I was simply happy to be with J.  Last night, however, I was completely surprised and delighted when he asked me to spend the rest of my life with him.  I very happily (and tearfully-I HAVE mentioned I am a crier) said yes.  So today I write you feeling warm and "sunshine-y" despite the cold and the rain.

I may even go run outside in shorts and a t-shirt!