Bon Anniversaire à Moi!

By all that is right and good, I should not be awake at 4:24 on the Saturday morning of my birthday weekend.  Scratch that - I should be, but it should be because I've just stumbled in from a night on the lash. But no, I was responsible last night and went to bed at 11 because I knew my alarm was going off at 4am this morning.

Pourquoi?

Because I'm headed off to France for the weekend!  To Normandy, to be precise.  To a little village near Beuzeville, to be even more precise.

My friend Alex (she of the Glyndebourne trip) has a house out there that she's selling, and she decided to have one last hurrah with about ten of us before the house goes.  It's just a happy coincidence that this falls over my birthday weekend.

Oops - my cab is here to take me to Waterloo.  The Tube isn't even open this early!  Yikes.

Into the Blogosphere, Part Deux

It's up!  My article on "getting around London" has been posted over at Expat Arrivals.  I feel famous!

Check it out here.  And while you're there, take a look around the rest of the site - it's very handy!

(And no, Nana and Grandma, this still isn't an in for a book deal.  Sorry.)

I'm Melting, Melting!

London note: no matter what the sky looks like, TAKE AN UMBRELLA WITH YOU WHEN YOU LEAVE THE HOUSE.  Otherwise...

Into the Blogosphere

Well, even though I lost a follower in the past week ("Shwhat?"  I hear you cry - "Impossible!"  But it's true.) my blogging is, somehow, taking off.  A few weeks ago I was asked to write a post for the very useful website Expat Arrivals, which provides "local info for global expats."  The London section has bits on most things you'd need to know when moving here - I think it's a work in progress - and I wrote a blurb on "Getting Around London."  Not sure when it's going to be posted - I'll keep you updated - but how exciting to even be asked!

(No, Nana and Grandma, this doesn't mean that I'm enroute to being published.  Sorry.  I know you have high hopes for me!)

In Good Company

You may have noticed that I deleted last week's "overwhelmed" post.  (Thank you for all the comments and emails and general checking up on me as a result, by the way - you're all very sweet!)  I am definitely still overwhelmed, but I took it down because it was impolitic to post it in the first place.  I do want to talk more about some of the issues I raised there, and I will, but there's a more careful way of doing so.

You know how you're not supposed to grocery shop when you're hungry?  Similarly, you shouldn't blog when you're emotional.  Lesson learned.

Anyway, a very well-timed article appeared in this weekend's New York Times Magazine.  "What is it about 20-Somethings?" explores why are so many people in their 20s taking so long to grow up - apparently, this age is now called "emerging adulthood."  A lot of what was written really resonated with me, especially the passage below:

"But despite elements that are exciting, even exhilarating, about being this age, there is a downside, too: dread, frustration, uncertainty, a sense of not quite understanding the rules of the game. More than positive or negative feelings, what Arnett heard most often was ambivalence — beginning with his finding that 60 percent of his subjects told him they felt like both grown-ups and not-quite-grown-ups." (p. 4)

I think that this ambivalence is what I was trying to express in my now-deleted post.  I definitely feel like I'm playing a game for which I haven't read the rules; a lot of my friends tell me, too, that they're figuring things out - work, relationships, bills, what have you - as they go along.  It is exhilarating, true - it's a constant adrenaline rush to be teetering just on the edge of What The [Expletive] Am I Doing.  But when I stop and look around and realize where I am, it is scary, even dreadful at times.

I know I have a few 20something readers, and more who made it through their 20s successfully.  Read the article, if you get a chance, and then tell me what you think, please.

I'll close with the last paragraph:

"Does that mean it’s a good thing to let 20-somethings meander — or even to encourage them to meander — before they settle down? That’s the question that plagues so many of their parents. It’s easy to see the advantages to the delay. There is time enough for adulthood and its attendant obligations; maybe if kids take longer to choose their mates and their careers, they’ll make fewer mistakes and live happier lives. But it’s just as easy to see the drawbacks. As the settling-down sputters along for the “emerging adults,” things can get precarious for the rest of us. Parents are helping pay bills they never counted on paying, and social institutions are missing out on young people contributing to productivity and growth. Of course, the recession complicates things, and even if every 20-something were ready to skip the “emerging” moratorium and act like a grown-up, there wouldn’t necessarily be jobs for them all. So we’re caught in a weird moment, unsure whether to allow young people to keep exploring and questioning or to cut them off and tell them just to find something, anything, to put food on the table and get on with their lives." (p. 10)

Welcome to the Neighborhood

Now that we've been in our flat for three weeks I can say with confidence that I love our neighborhood!  It truly is Nappy Valley, so called because of all the families with young children who live here.  Jon and I went for a walk the other night and the number of estates (station wagons) and people carriers (minivans) and, generally, cars with carseats in the back parked on the street outside the rows of terraces houses was astonishing.  I spent the better part of an hour this afternoon wandering up and down Northcote Road, our local stretch of antique shops, clothing stores, and cafes, and found myself constantly dodging prams (strollers).  I really like the vibe of living in a family-friendly neighborhood.  I think Jon would maybe prefer to be somewhere slightly trendier, with more 20somethings, but I like the slower pace of an area where the streets are quiet by 9pm.

Also, I've grown to love my walk to the tube.  When we were looking at flats I specified that I didn't want to be further than a 10 minute walk from our closest tube station, but the flat we chose - actually, the flat that Jon, John, and Sam chose - is a 15 minute walk from Clapham South.  I have to admit that I was really annoyed by that at the beginning, but now I love my morning and evening walk to and from the tube.  It's a little slice of me time, space to gear up for or unwind from the day.

(I'm now sitting in a cafe with wifi a 10 minute walk from the flat - just had the most delicious eggs benedict with salt beef instead of ham, nom - and plan on exploring the market in a minute to pick up ingredients for Sunday's roast lunch.  Guest of honor tomorrow: Liz H., a friend from home who's in town to watch the Women's Rugby World Cup.  Yay!)

Frock Fridays (Early)

(This "Frock Fridays" thing is just an excuse for me to share pretty dresses with you.  When I post it clearly has nothing to do with the day of the week.  Oops.)

What does a blogger do when she can't sleep?  Why, she scrolls through her Google Reader, catching up on all the blogs she's missed!  And what does she find?  Frocks!  More specifically, she finds a whole line of absolutely gorgeous Louis Vuitton dresses for fall 2010.

You may have noticed that I have a thing for '50s style-dresses.  Cinched waists, full skirts, the works.  Apparently Louis does, too, this season!  Here are some of my favorites from the collection.

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A Little Inspiration

I know I've been bad about blogging for the past week or so - I'm going to blame it on not having had internet in the house, having been being busy with work, and a general lack of inspiration.  But fear not!  For lo, I have internet, no work, and lots of inspiration.  Gird your loins, dear readers: this is going to be an epic post.

Now, first things first.  My flat.  You want to see photos of it.  I know, I know.  I have to tell you, though, that I've been finding it very hard to photograph the flat properly!  It's very presentable at the mo' (because I went on a cleaning binge following the messiness of last night's dinner party) but I just can't get good photos that show all of each room.  Basically, if you want to see my flat you'll have to come visit.  And yet I am not wholly cruel: I hereby send you to photos of another beautiful London flat.  Find these images of the flat of Shabby Chic designer Rachel Ashwell in the Aug/Sept issue of the lovely online magazine Lonny starting on page 102.  (Although I'm still in the honeymoon phase with my flat, I find myself with a wandering eye...) 

But life isn't all fantasy - after all, I have Ikea.  And I love Ikea.  (Who doesn't love Ikea?)  John and Sam and I trekked out to Croydon - not somewhere you want to go if you can help it - the other day to hit up one of London's Ikeas and stocked up on the furniture our flat was missing (mirrors, a nightstand for me, a big bookshelf for the living room, etc.) and the little things we wanted/needed (more wine glasses, oven mitts, a crocodile-shaped no-slip mat for the bath, etc.) and then had a ball putting everything together and/or in its place.

The flat really is coming together nicely.  Though Sam is now off to Greece and Scotland for the next three weeks and John is in and out of the flat as the wind blows him, I think this feels like home to all of us.  Certainly it feels like home to me.  You know how I know?  I've been tidying compulsively ever since we moved in.  I was terrible at cleaning Jon's old house for the six weeks I lived there because, I believe, it didn't feel like my home and so I didn't take pride in it.  This is definitely my home and I want it to be the best it can be.

(Side note: at last night's dinner party, all three of my boys dresses up in suits of their own volition.  I love them.)

In other news, I'm going to Glyndebourne tomorrow!  The ringleader of our gay Glyndebourne group (check out that alliteration!) texted me with the menu she's planning for our interval picnic, and it is so gorgeously over the top - I can't wait.  I found the most beautiful dress to wear - you'll see pictures, don't worry, and that will count as Frock Fridays - and am really looking forward to getting glammed up.  Yes, I'm excited about the opera, too, obviously, but Glyndebourne is about the whole experience, not just the opera.  Besides, you can't plan for the opera.  You can only plan your outfit and the food!

Speaking of getting glam, I came across (can't remember where) this Dove video challenging our perceptions of beauty.  It really struck me and so I want to share it with you:

What do you think of the video?  Of its message?  I'm interested to read your take on it!

Okay, I think that on that uplifting note I will end this post.  Speak soon!

P.S. I am becoming British.  A friend complained yesterday of the mess made by her subletters, and today I asked her, "Is your flat in a better state?"  Lord help me.

Internet Has Arrived!

Obviously.

Photos from the flat will be forthcoming, as will a longer and more informative post.  Watch this space!

Too Short a Weekend

As I mentioned, Jon and I have come down to his family's house in Suffolk for the weekend.  It's been lovely and relaxing.  We had a lie-in (such a British phrase!) yesterday morning and then ambled to Aldeburgh, where we ate ice cream on the beach and wandered the high street.  Last night featured a barbecue (of course) with the extended family and friends.  Today's activities revolve around the cousins (aged 10, 13, and 15) who want to go to the Meare to frolic; I'm told we'll be renting rowboats and playing "pirates" in the lake and on the islands.  Unfortunately, Jon and I have to head back to London late this afternoon - originally we planned to stay here until Monday morning, but peak-time train tickets are prohibitively expensive and so we had to make alternative arrangements.  (How crazy is it that it's cheaper to fly to most places in Europe for a weekend than it is to take a train to Suffolk for a weekend?  Crazy!)

I really am enjoying the weekend, but I can't stop thinking about next week at work.  You see, although my induction week was two weeks ago, the woman I replaced didn't leave till this past Friday, which means that although I was doing proper work last week I had a sort of safety net - I absolutely abused her presence in the office by asking her tons of questions.  This week she's gone and so is my boss, off on holiday and unaccessible by email, and so I'm completely on my own.  I have to admit, I'm a little nervous!  I have a to-do list as long as my arm, so I'll certainly be busy, and I don't mean to underestimate myself and how much I know and how much I've learned in the past two weeks, but I am still a little apprehensive.  What if something comes up and I don't know how to handle it?  Eek!

On the bright side, though, once I get through this week successfully I'll know I can get through anything!

Frock Fridays

I know, I know, it's Saturday.  I'm late with Frock Fridays again.  Yesterday was such a busy whirlwind of a day, though, that I wasn't able to sit down to blog even for five minutes, and so you're getting your dress dose today.

I've indulged myself by Polyvoring rather than just pasting a dress here.  Why?  Because, my friends, I am going to Glyndebourne next Saturday, which certainly warrants a whole outfit!  Glyndebourne, if you don't know (and are too lazy to click on the link - don't lie, I know that some of you are) is an opera festival outside of London.  You take a train out to Lewes and then a shuttlebus (or drive, if you've got a kind license-holding friend, which I will have next weekend) to a grand estate.  All the operas include a dinner-length interval during which you can dine at one of the restaurants on the estate or picnic in the gardens (we'll be picnicking).  My first Glyndebourne experience was in May 2009, when my grandparents very generously gave me a ticket to Handel's Julio Cesare as my graduation present - thank you, Nana and Pappy - and I've wanted to go back ever since.

The whole affair is black-tie optional, and we - four of us organized by my friend Alex - are planning on getting very glam.  The outfit below is actually terribly impractical because heels of that hight will simply sink into the grass and it'll probably be cold and rainy, but it's gorgeous anyway.

[ dress / lipstick / earrings / headband / shoes / bag ]

(Post) Moving Day

(Side note: our new flat won't have internet till Monday - and tomorrow night we're heading down to Suffolk for the weekend - so my posting might be intermittent till next week.  Apologies.)

So.  The new flat!  It's great.  It's simply great.

We all moved in yesterday - it took most of the afternoon to unpack everything we had brought, but it's done!  Well, almost.  Jon had to go back to the old flat to make sure it was spick and span for the landlady's inspection and so isn't unpacked at all, but at least all of his stuff is out of the common areas and in our room.  Ah, our room.  The master bedroom.  Our room makes me happy.  It's huge and airy, with a big window the looks out on the communal garden and the comfiest bed I could have hoped for.  We also have two built-in closets, thank God, and two dressers, so we're not fighting for space.

The living/dining room is a good size, too.  We're keeping the dining table against the wall to save space, for now, but it will be pulled out for dinner parties and can seat six.  There are two comfy leather couches which are key for the boys as they predict they will be spending 75% of their downtime in them playing video games.  Yes, we will be a gaming house - with three boys in their early 20s would you expect anything else?  Sigh.

The kitchen is fab - it has a gas stove, which I love - and also has a window looking out to the garden.  No dishwasher, alas, but that's not unusual for British kitchens.  Also not unusually for British kitchens, it has a washing machine built in next to the sink.  (Apparently this practice is catching on in the States, too.)  The refrigerator is a little smaller than I'd like and is weird in that the freezer is bigger than the fridge, but John brought his own fridge and it's been designated as the beer/wine fridge.  What luxury!

I will take a post photos very soon, I promise, but I want to wait until we're well and truly settled in and everything's been put away.  Last night we celebrated our move with pizza and beer and when I woke up this morning, having gone to bed earlier than the boys, empty boxes and bottles littered the table and floor - let's hope they're not still there when I get home tonight!  If they are, words will be had.  Serious words.  Anyway, the flat was not photographable this morning.  But it will be soon, and then I will share  our home with you, dear readers!

(Pre) Moving Day

Today is moving day!  We're heading from SE16 to SW12 - quite a switch.  I'm (almost) all packed, though I have to admit that packing was easier for me than it was for Jon because, thanks to my transatlantic hop, I have lots of practice fitting all my belongings into three suitcases and three boxes!

I also have to admit that I've escaped the hardest part of the move: the moving.  I managed to get the afternoon off work, but Jon's dad is driving up in the morning to help us and has to be back in Suffolk by late afternoon, which means that the bulk of the physically-moving-things-from-one-place-to-another part of the day will be done by the two of them.  I'll get to the flat once most things, if not all things, have been moved in.  (Oh, darn.)  Then Jon will head back to the old house to make sure it's prepared for the dreaded landlady visit and I will start unpacking.  I actually like unpacking - is that weird?  I like creating a home by finding a place for each thing and making that home my own by knowing exactly where everything is.  Maybe not weird - maybe just OCD.  Oh, well!  I hope our two new flatmates, John and Sam, don't mind that about me...

White Rabbit

Happy August!  Wait - August?  How is it August already?  This is crazy, I tell you, crazy!

(It's my birthday month.  In 29 days I will be in my mid-twenties.  Ah!)

Went to a lovely garden party yesterday to celebrate a friend's birthday.  Pimms, scones, croquet - it was tons o' fun.  Jon started a bromance with a friend of the birthday girl who lives in Clapham - it seems that everyone either lives in Clapham (our new neighborhood as of this coming week) or knows someone who does.

I'm looking forward to our move more and more.  The house we're in now is fine, but I feel like it's Jon's house and I'm just crashing here.  I'm excited to have a place that feels like mine - well, like ours, really.  We go to the estate agents' on Monday to sign the papers and move-in day is Wednesday.  That means that today is all about packing, even though I'm desperate for a lazy day.

Speaking of lazy days - lazy Sundays - how perfectly indulgent does this look?  Maybe someday soon someone will bring me the paper and breakfast in bed...

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