My Mom and Mark's Mum. Surprisingly similarly small.
Thursday, 20 October 2005
Monday, 3 October 2005
long time no write
I've had bits and bobs to report, but none seemed blog worthy, but perhaps when lumped together, they shall serve as an informative and entertaining post. Or at least make me current. A girl can't be funny all the time, can she?
1) I have a new bike.
I know, I am kinda heartbroken too. Greenie still is my number-one all-time best bike EVER. But through an insurance deal -- for Mark's stolen cycle, I got a new ladies mountain bike. (For all the mountains here in Cambridge). I am calling her Little Blue. She is blue. And little. And I can't feel the many bumps on the path to the gym when I ride her, so she will be my sporty spice bike and Greenie will be my town and shopping cycle. I forced them to park close to they could get to know each other. So far, no broken spokes. Dig me -- haven't driven a car for over a year, but now own 2 bikes. Iamsosure.
2) I take my certification exam on Thursday.
Thank you to those who have reminded me. I mean, wished me well. I am oddly not too bothered by it yet. Yet. I figure if I haven't learned, practiced, lived, the model by now and can't pass the test, then I shouldn't. The powers that be share the results in about 2-3 weeks... They send you a slim envelope notifying you if you passed. They send you a honking envelope containing the video of your sucky coaching if you failed. (So you can 'see' your mistakes. UGH) One hopes for a slim envelope.
3) I moved here one year ago
Hard to believe, eh? But the nip in the air is reminiscent of turning up the volume of change. And I am still doing it. I am happy how my experiment turned out. Getting married, almost a certified coach, less inches, more me. I recommend everyone get out of their life a bit and try on new ways. It really makes you see which laws you made up about yourself and which are actually true.
4) I am stateside for Nov/Dec
So I'll be free for Spices and local phone calls and local time zones and borrowing your best reads and seeing your new dogs and admiring your growing children and movies movies movies at E Street and Teaism soba noodles and a sessions at Flow and toasting Thanksgiving blessings and watching reruns of the Gilmore Girls and sitting in your kitchen while you open up a bottle of red and lying on your couch while we have another cup of joe and going to your holiday bash and getting on the regular stool for a hang with Krishna at Aroma and a breeze through the new exhibit at the Building Museum and no thanks, tonight I am staying in.
1) I have a new bike.
I know, I am kinda heartbroken too. Greenie still is my number-one all-time best bike EVER. But through an insurance deal -- for Mark's stolen cycle, I got a new ladies mountain bike. (For all the mountains here in Cambridge). I am calling her Little Blue. She is blue. And little. And I can't feel the many bumps on the path to the gym when I ride her, so she will be my sporty spice bike and Greenie will be my town and shopping cycle. I forced them to park close to they could get to know each other. So far, no broken spokes. Dig me -- haven't driven a car for over a year, but now own 2 bikes. Iamsosure.
2) I take my certification exam on Thursday.
Thank you to those who have reminded me. I mean, wished me well. I am oddly not too bothered by it yet. Yet. I figure if I haven't learned, practiced, lived, the model by now and can't pass the test, then I shouldn't. The powers that be share the results in about 2-3 weeks... They send you a slim envelope notifying you if you passed. They send you a honking envelope containing the video of your sucky coaching if you failed. (So you can 'see' your mistakes. UGH) One hopes for a slim envelope.
3) I moved here one year ago
Hard to believe, eh? But the nip in the air is reminiscent of turning up the volume of change. And I am still doing it. I am happy how my experiment turned out. Getting married, almost a certified coach, less inches, more me. I recommend everyone get out of their life a bit and try on new ways. It really makes you see which laws you made up about yourself and which are actually true.
4) I am stateside for Nov/Dec
So I'll be free for Spices and local phone calls and local time zones and borrowing your best reads and seeing your new dogs and admiring your growing children and movies movies movies at E Street and Teaism soba noodles and a sessions at Flow and toasting Thanksgiving blessings and watching reruns of the Gilmore Girls and sitting in your kitchen while you open up a bottle of red and lying on your couch while we have another cup of joe and going to your holiday bash and getting on the regular stool for a hang with Krishna at Aroma and a breeze through the new exhibit at the Building Museum and no thanks, tonight I am staying in.
Friday, 16 September 2005
shiny happy
RING!
I have my wonderful, sparkler back after 2 LONG months of engagement ring free life. One of the stones fell out and the insurance company took their sweet time in fixing her up.
But now she is back and I can once again gaze lovingly at the beautiful shiner on my hand and remember that I am engaged. The ring really does help.
I have my wonderful, sparkler back after 2 LONG months of engagement ring free life. One of the stones fell out and the insurance company took their sweet time in fixing her up.
But now she is back and I can once again gaze lovingly at the beautiful shiner on my hand and remember that I am engaged. The ring really does help.
Saturday, 10 September 2005
like saltines
It is a lot like saltines.
I am fine- good, actually. Going along my life here in Cambridge -- gym, library, coaching, making dinner, doing laundry, swapping e-mails with pals, reading good novels, hanging out with Mark, going to Sainsburys -- normal, living, going along things. Fine.
Then I see a picture of saltines in Real Simple magazine. Light, fluffy, salty-topped simple crackers... the kind you need when you feel sick or want to eat soup. They don't have saltines here in the UK. They have many other kinds of cracker-esque things -- biscuity, tea-dunking things, or Ryvitas or buttery Ritz types that rqauire a hunk of cheese. But nothing that resembles a saltine.
Saltines are necessary. You don't CRAVE them, but when they are gone, you really notice how simply perfect they are and when you feel like you are going to throw up, nothing else will do.
Now I have met some really nice folks here. Excellent new pals and one or 2 exceptional humans who help me keep that fine balance of waking, walking, and working together. I learn from them. I am really lucky to have them. They are my biscuits. New and necessary. And satisfying.
But I miss my saltines.
I don't know if it is that I am coming up on a year here, or that the novelty of the new place is now settling, or that I am finishing my coaching certification and that big goal is almost met. But it is finally hitting me. I've missed people -- family, friends, the city. But this is different. More acute.
All it took is one recent exceptionally perfectly funny, quippy, newsy e-mail from Mary, detailing the tos and fros, the plans and the daily happenings of her and hers, news of the gang, and beers drunk, the plans made, followed by one perfectly timed overseas phone call from Helena that had me picturing myself in her kitchen, easily chatting in my PJs, petting LuLu and playing peek-a-boo with Oliver while reading the new Spices catering menu and the latest People. And the ache of missing my friends was loud.
This time here is valuable. I am clean and clear about that. I am learning about my own ways and my own rhythms - sometimes quick and lively, and sometimes missing a beat.
My friends make me more interesting, I am convinced. And their quirky, human humour and personalities help mine relax and come out to play. Together, things made sense somehow, even if they were eternally fucked up.
My head and heart are here in Cambridge but I think my funny bone might have osteoporosis and my heart is homesick for the ones in the Girl Scout friendship song that we are reminded to keep -- as the new ones are silver and the others gold.
Especially with tomato soup.
I am fine- good, actually. Going along my life here in Cambridge -- gym, library, coaching, making dinner, doing laundry, swapping e-mails with pals, reading good novels, hanging out with Mark, going to Sainsburys -- normal, living, going along things. Fine.
Then I see a picture of saltines in Real Simple magazine. Light, fluffy, salty-topped simple crackers... the kind you need when you feel sick or want to eat soup. They don't have saltines here in the UK. They have many other kinds of cracker-esque things -- biscuity, tea-dunking things, or Ryvitas or buttery Ritz types that rqauire a hunk of cheese. But nothing that resembles a saltine.
Saltines are necessary. You don't CRAVE them, but when they are gone, you really notice how simply perfect they are and when you feel like you are going to throw up, nothing else will do.
Now I have met some really nice folks here. Excellent new pals and one or 2 exceptional humans who help me keep that fine balance of waking, walking, and working together. I learn from them. I am really lucky to have them. They are my biscuits. New and necessary. And satisfying.
But I miss my saltines.
I don't know if it is that I am coming up on a year here, or that the novelty of the new place is now settling, or that I am finishing my coaching certification and that big goal is almost met. But it is finally hitting me. I've missed people -- family, friends, the city. But this is different. More acute.
All it took is one recent exceptionally perfectly funny, quippy, newsy e-mail from Mary, detailing the tos and fros, the plans and the daily happenings of her and hers, news of the gang, and beers drunk, the plans made, followed by one perfectly timed overseas phone call from Helena that had me picturing myself in her kitchen, easily chatting in my PJs, petting LuLu and playing peek-a-boo with Oliver while reading the new Spices catering menu and the latest People. And the ache of missing my friends was loud.
This time here is valuable. I am clean and clear about that. I am learning about my own ways and my own rhythms - sometimes quick and lively, and sometimes missing a beat.
My friends make me more interesting, I am convinced. And their quirky, human humour and personalities help mine relax and come out to play. Together, things made sense somehow, even if they were eternally fucked up.
My head and heart are here in Cambridge but I think my funny bone might have osteoporosis and my heart is homesick for the ones in the Girl Scout friendship song that we are reminded to keep -- as the new ones are silver and the others gold.
Especially with tomato soup.
Thursday, 8 September 2005
Sunday, 4 September 2005
Wednesday, 31 August 2005
Tuesday, 23 August 2005
Wednesday, 17 August 2005
Saturday, 13 August 2005
2 non related items
1) Pitchers of beer are called jugs here- can you imagine ordering a 'jug of beer' with a straight face? Asif.
2) I think our house has become Inspiration Point. Bird couples have been copulating conspicuously on the fence in our back garden. It involves a lot of flapping and chasing and looks altogether like no one is having fun. I have a notion to throw a jug of beer on them.
2) I think our house has become Inspiration Point. Bird couples have been copulating conspicuously on the fence in our back garden. It involves a lot of flapping and chasing and looks altogether like no one is having fun. I have a notion to throw a jug of beer on them.
Thursday, 11 August 2005
a crime in cambridge
Mark's bike was nicked.
Like the true Cambridgers, we biked to an outdoor comedy show at Jesus Green last Saturday night.
Double locked to my greenie... the thieves cut through 2 ropy strong locks and were off in the night with his impressive-looking but really crap mountain bike. And my proud greenie, with her pretty orange -flowered bell and basket stood alone and abandoned -- her pal being ripped from her. The crooks must not have thought she was worth stealing.
True, the 2 bikes hadn't know each other long, but were quite attached to each other after the many trips to the gym and country rides and being locked together. After all, it made for intimate spoke connections and wheel touching. And with her being a tried and true type -- a little beat up but well loved and him being sporty but a little inept -- they made a perfect pair.
Now she has a new friend paid for with insurance money -- posh and proper mountain bike with red stripes. She isn't sure of this new flash pal. What kind of bike is he? Will he appreciate her quirky nature and classic styling? Will he wait for her as she works her 3 speeds or zoom past in a showy off-road cloud of dust?
And will Mark's old bike just move on to the next pal, or is he silently leaking oil in grief?
Like the true Cambridgers, we biked to an outdoor comedy show at Jesus Green last Saturday night.
Double locked to my greenie... the thieves cut through 2 ropy strong locks and were off in the night with his impressive-looking but really crap mountain bike. And my proud greenie, with her pretty orange -flowered bell and basket stood alone and abandoned -- her pal being ripped from her. The crooks must not have thought she was worth stealing.
True, the 2 bikes hadn't know each other long, but were quite attached to each other after the many trips to the gym and country rides and being locked together. After all, it made for intimate spoke connections and wheel touching. And with her being a tried and true type -- a little beat up but well loved and him being sporty but a little inept -- they made a perfect pair.
Now she has a new friend paid for with insurance money -- posh and proper mountain bike with red stripes. She isn't sure of this new flash pal. What kind of bike is he? Will he appreciate her quirky nature and classic styling? Will he wait for her as she works her 3 speeds or zoom past in a showy off-road cloud of dust?
And will Mark's old bike just move on to the next pal, or is he silently leaking oil in grief?
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