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I had a HUUUUUUUGE weekend with my friends and the amazing photos are forthcoming, if I could only choose which ones to share.
Meantime, since yesterday afternoon I have not been feeling so well, but I'm ok now and I've just eaten breakfast (at 4pm...). It's that darned stomach again. So, apart from a brisk walk I took last night during an hour of respite, I am not going anywhere today. Plus, the black clouds are rolling in right now and there is a severe weather alert for the NYC area...
Anyway, perhaps as a result of the 8 antacids (!) I took yesterday evening, I had the longest and most amazing dream.
It was like one of those apocalyptic movies. I dreamed that everyone on earth underwent this subtle transformation but for a few minutes it did nearly turn into a zombie nightmare. A group of us including me had holed ourselves up in a kitchen in the back of a big house during the transition. It must have taken longer than a few days and less than a few weeks, as we had enough food in stock to survive.
There were some moments when the creepy changelings outside nearly discovered us through the rather shoddy door. But we were alright, and when we thought it was over, they sent me out as a scout with my cell phone.
I emerged into a peaceful world where everything looked perfect. It was as though the planet had been transformed into a utopia - a sunshine and picket fence, colorful flowers and white linen trousers type of world. People were cheerfully getting along and helping each other just as they should. Sitting at outdoor cafes and laughing; strolling along in cosy banter. Considering how it all began, this scared me a bit, but I didn't feel threatened and I blended in because everyone else looked normal again, just a bit more shiny than I.
The only thing that scared me a bit was that when I opened my phone (I don't even like flip phones!) to report back to the group, every voice fell silent and every head in the vicinity immediately turned in my direction. Had they detected my signal? Then I realized I hadn't seen a single cell phone since starting out, and THEN I realized everyone was tuned into a single consciousness that had become aware of me and my "pre-change" technology. I wondered how I was still receiving cell phone service if it was not needed on this new earth. I searched for a quiet area to speak, but at this point I was probably beginning to be stealthily pursued or something, the stranger in their midst.
I woke up, drifted back to sleep, and there were a few more imaginings of this sort, but I didn't go in deep. As I slowly returned to consciousness I wondered to myself why my group had fought back and not let ourselves become a part of that utopia. Probably because it was just not natural to the human condition, or probably because there was an undiscovered dark side.
As I started this post I suddenly realized where the inspiration for the dream originated: Invasion by Robin Cook - even though I read that book over a month ago and haven't even thought of it since. It starts with tiny alien discs that fall to earth. Everyone who picks one up is injected, falls ill with a short flu, and emerges from it the next day a better, healthier, hypersensitive, superstrong, more robust and cheerful version of themselves .... well you will just have to read the book or Google it yourself, but it gets creepier after that. I won't be blamed for dropping all the spoilers for you.
Labels: food, friends, NYC, weekend
Public concourse on the ground floor of the Rockefeller Center (GE Building).
A really nice staircase and floor. This (like the Empire State Building) was one of the large public works projects enacted during the Great Depression to give men jobs. In my opinion, it was the last time things were made to last forever - they really knew how to build 'em back then. Black granite and brass everywhere, and great murals too.
Labels: art, food, friends, photos
Labels: bay ridge, Brooklyn, evening
CATCHUP BLOG - I am so sorry, y'all! So sorry! I haven't had much time as I've been unsettled since moving to the new place in Brooklyn. So feel free to just look at the photos, if you like.
Now that I am not gallivanting every day, and am finally able to sit down and apply to jobs, I also now have the time to blog *ahem*
**guilty eyes**
I promise I won't leave it so long next time. My mind is just all over the place, and I've lost focus and the momentum I started out with, i.e. finding this apartment, getting financially set up, renewing driver's license, etc, etc, etc. Because at the rate all that happened, I should have a job by now. (I've been here just over a month now.)
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FROM JUNE 19th, 2008:
The R Train crossing the Manhattan Bridge into Brooklyn
Last Sunday I revisited the new home I will be moving into this Sunday. New roomie-to-be and I chatted, ate a bowl of blueberries, and measured every surface in my new room.
It had rained in the morning so the breeze was delicious, and following her directions I went on an exploratory walk. I will be living only a couple of blocks away from Shore Park which looks out onto Upper New York Bay and buffers Bay Ridge from the big parkway directly along the shore.
Trying to see the Verrazano Narrows Bridge through the trees as I enter the park
Little fountains dot the length of the park
It was too sunny for me to patch a panoramic together using the nifty function on my phone, so....
....there are simply two separate photos of the bridge running into the distance (Staten Island, actually)
Then I walked back "inland" and explored some of the neat little streets in the neighborhood. This is what I saw:
Some little Brooklyn whitestones, I'll show you brownstones another time
A quirky narrow Victorian
A real dollshouse!
Oliver Street, a good sign
This photo does not convey the peaceful villageyness of this street. Note the trees were trained to lean into the street and arch over it as you see in the next photo:
A pleasant green tunnel, again not well conveyed by the photo
And a rather Hollywood-style mansion across from a private school
Heading towards the shops on 86th Street, I came across a Cupcake Bakery!
I hope I remember where this was.....
So then I spent the entire remainder of the afternoon on 86th between 4th and 5th Avenues, never even making it to the center of the borough on Atlantic Avenue where the courthouse and even more amenities lie, including a new Target, a store I missed very much when I was in London.
There is every shop, bar, cafe, bistro, and convenience I could ever want right here in Bay Ridge, even some I hadn't expected - and all in one place - so I'd never need to go into Manhattan. Imagine if I got a job in Brooklyn too, my friends uptown would have to coax me into the City.
Tomorrow I will visit the Brooklyn IKEA that had its Grand Opening today in Red Hook, just north of Bay Ridge. There is a special ferry going between it and Pier 11 on Wall Street. Also, free shuttle buses servicing the nearby subway stops. But of course I want to take the ferry!
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FROM JULY 1, 2008:
I have sunburn!
Roomie came home from work after lunch so we packed a picnic and went to Shore Park by the bridge (you've all seen pics in last post) and had a fun game of badminton.
Apologies for not blogging as much as I'd like. My photos are on my laptop, my wi-fi reception is intermittent, and I don't really want to blog on the shared computer because, well, it's not portable!
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THE BED SAGA
I bought a four poster bed at IKEA two weekends ago. The mattress and storage base were in the store so I acquired them for delivery. The four poster frame was somewhere in New Jersey, so they kept the other two pieces in order to marry the three and make one delivery a few days later. A week and a half later, my delivery comes - without bed frame.
The walk to Pier 11 takes you along Wall Street.
Clockwise L to R:
Federal Hall is where George Washington was sworn in as the first president of the United States of America in April 1789.
View of Trinity Church at the top end of Wall Street.
Trinity upshot.
The New York Stock Exchange at night.
The free IKEA ferry uses a couple of NY Water Taxis
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JERSEY CITY
Last week I accompanied my old friend from Houston on his quest to find an apartment in the area. If I'd had more time to find a place I would have looked at Jersey City too. We saw 13 apartments. No matter how many you see, there is always the ONE that stands out, and that is the one he took the very next day.
They build those luxury apartments really well in Jersey City, and the views over the water of Manhattan, Ellis Island, and the Statue of Liberty are amazing. There are some charming historic streets, but there is a lot of development going on and yet it is a very pristine area full of wide streets, benches and flowerbeds. Not only are there fancy new towerblocks, but the new rowhouses (terraces) are being built in the traditional style with great variations between each one, all charming. The area around the old power station will become a trendy arts district in the next 2 or The PATH train (that stops first at World Trade Center) is large, clean, and fast. It only takes 2 minutes to cross into Jersey, and 10 minutes max to get to Pavonia/Newport.
Clockwise L to R:
The old power station will be the center of a new arts district currently under development.
Downtown Manhattan at the end of the pier at Jersey City.
A view from one of the luxury condo towers.
Two towers going up.
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THE CHOCOLATE HEAVEN
Tuesday was a welcome break so Chris could negotiate for his new apartment and I could pay attention to mine, and meet with my friend Denise for the first time since her wedding.
Denise suggested a trendy young Thai place, and then we made the discovery of the season:
Max Brenner's chocolate factory, and the delightful hug mugs
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THE TOURISTY DAY
Chris and I met up twice more that week and did touristy things.
Wednesday: Landmark Tour of Buildings - Empire State, Chrysler, and GE (Rockefeller)
I lost the best artsy photos, and I don't know how!
A passageway in Grand Central Station
A late art deco building on 6th Avenue
An exterior wall of the Chrysler Building
A doorway surrounded by an art deco Zodiac frieze
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THE NERDY DAY
Thursday: Day at the Museum (of Natural History)
Teddy Roosevelt was a governor of New York
The Art Horses are here already! Jazzy one.
Mechanical one
The main hall of the museum
The Planetarium where we watched When Planets Collide
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THE CONCLUSION
Friday, I had a preliminary interview for a part time job at a furniture gallery (haven't heard back yet for the second round), and met my cousin for dinner at a lovely Italian place near Union Square called Buona Sera.
And I got a nifty new phone, the flattest I've ever seen. Though this one takes photos and plays music, I am keeping my Sony Ericsson for the 3.2MP camera and MP3 player with silicone earbuds.
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FROM JULY 7, 2008:
Well, here I am again. I've been trying to blog for days now, but wi-fi is not set up in this apartment so I've been borrowing someone's from nearby, which means it's intermittent. I could use the shared desktop computer with cable internet, but I need my phonecam/laptop Bluetooth connection. I love Bluetooth, yes I do.
So, let's get started!
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FOURTH OF JULY
We were supposed to go on an historic walk through the Revolutionary sites of downtown New York (centered around the old Wall Street area), but having stayed up until 5am comparing travel photos and artsy shots, it was after noon by the time I got out of bed.
If you don't leave the house early, it becomes harder to get out after a certain hour of the afternoon has passed, but I made it. Roomie and I are dangerous, both being only children and therefore sharing a few similar weaknesses. I went to the South Street Seaport to see the Macy's Fourth of July fireworks, visible from most parts of the city. There were three barges along the East River and many public viewing points.
The explosions were so powerful that when one went off, the shockwave caused my clothing to move, although they didn't sound as loud as you would imagine. There were new displays that floated on the water, but I didn't see them because I wasn't at the front. I did see the new ones that changed color in mid-air.
The first set (0.45)
If you can't see the video, here are a couple of photos:
After this, I couldn't keep the raindrops off the lens and it went blurry when the camera decided to focus on the droplets rather than the fireworks.
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THE DAY AFTER INDEPENDENCE DAY
In the evening, I went on a long walk in the cool following the afternoon rain.
The sun really does go down right there, at the end of the bridge. And most of the sound you hear ahead of the traffic is the waves lapping against the rocks below me.
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LAZY SUNDAY
Roomie took me to her fave French cafe a few blocks away for brunch. Sunday Brunch at small cafes is a hugely popular tradition out here, and it may be difficult to stay home next Sunday. I had a Croque Monsieur, and wow it was so yummy I didn't want it to end; came with a mesclun salad sprinkled with vinaigrette and fresh black pepper. The brunch menu for $16.95 includes a hot and cold beverage, a main, and a dessert. For a few dollars more you can add a morning cocktail! (Maybe next time.) My dessert was a pear, almond and pistachio tart. The portions were perfect and we were full up. I was both bemused and encouraged to see two teens, a boy and a girl about 15 years of age, come in to the cafe and order escargots swimming in garlic butter with a sliced baguette for sopping it up, and ooh it smelled good.
Full stomachs called for a walk around the neighborhood. It is difficult to imagine this is Brooklyn, much less within the New York City limits. Roomie says it is "very Long Island".
Here is one example of New England colonial in a street of varied but stately architectural styles, all raised quite high over the sidewalk.
But the famed local gem by far is this place built in 1916 and nicknamed the Gingerbread House. I could not choose just one shot to show you!
Roomie's parents had brought a giant watermelon for just the two of us...! So we knuckled down and decided to cut into it. One shelf of the entire refrigerator is dedicated to its storage and I suggested making watermelon soup to get rid of some of it.
Afterwards, I was in the bathroom when I heard a shout and a stool fall. I emerged to see roomie standing on a chair pointing at a hideous looking centipede in the middle of the kitchen floor. She said, "I threw a chair at it and it's still alive!" My normally logical and sanguine roommate has a weakness after all.
Now, I thought I was scared of bugs, but I guess my years of exposure to the giant tropical critters along the Gulf of Mexico have inured me somewhat, though I admit that I did scream once when he nearly got away from me. I covered him with a glass vase, stuffed stiff cardboard underneath, tipped him into the vase, drowned him with kitchen cleaner, and flushed him down the toilet.
After we'd calmed down, we went for another walk.
Greetings from New York City!
Apologies if it's messed up - I copied the HTML from my Blogger editor and this is really too big for me to edit, I'm so sleepy. But hope you enjoy, if only just the pictures....
I wrote this days ago, I know. But my time has mostly been taken since then on finding an apartment share, trying to open an account which I can't do until I change my driver's license, and calling my dad to beg for encouragement and $ if I need it....*ahem*
SO here goes:
Get a cup of tea and put your feet up for this one, it's a saga!
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The Big Move
Where to start..............I arrived on the afternoon of Thursday the 29th after the easiest flight I have ever taken. On departure, there were no emotions at all - in fact, I fell asleep during taxi and was sort of awake during take-off. My neighbor was an amiable old fellow originally from Armenia and he and I got along splendidly.
Parkchester, where I am staying with my cousin for now
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The Shopping Day
Friday I went to Macy's and got my 11% discount visitor card good for 5 days from issue (note well, in case you need it: go to the Visitor Center upstairs, show them your passport or out of state driver's license and they'll hand it over no problem). Bought a couple of Givenchy necklaces, one gold and crystal choker and one short necklace studded with brown Swarovski crystals - this latter I wore at the wedding. I also satisfied my usual desire for Ralph Lauren clothing. I don't need Macy's for anything else really, not if I can always go to Filene's Basement. More on that another time.
The Empire State Building at night
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Staying Downtown
It is warm and summery here now, and by Saturday I was already slimming down and feeling energetic and healthy. My hair is soft, my skin is soft, my lung capacity is greater, no aches and pains, and no black soot in my nostrils.
Approaching Grand Central Station, the shiny Hyatt, and the Chrysler building, along 42nd Street
Saturday afternoon I checked in at the Park Lane Grand Hyatt at Grand Central, a rather nice establishment I must say. Got my room on the 25th floor.
That, I must say, is a very comfy bed
There were more toiletries than I could shake a stick at all over the bathroom
A room with a view...of 42nd Street and Grand Central
My black slippers from London no longer fit in the warm weather, so I had to run out to buy a pair in the afternoon. I was heading in the general direction of Macy's when across the road on Madison Avenue I spotted a swanky looking Payless Shoe Source, it's amazing the nice places that utilitarian shoe store pops up. You get great looking shoes, pretty good quality, for peanuts.
So $24.99 (for shoes, no tax under $100) gave me black patent peep toe kitten heels. Here is my outfit for the dinner:
As I walked down the street feeling very SATC, some old guy commented as he passed me, "Nice lady...", in all a very New York moment.
The intimate pre-wedding-day dinner for select family and friends was held at a brasserie on E 45th which serves "little plates" and my favorite thing to do is make a smorgasbord. As I was not very hungry, I had two lobster and artichoke spring rolls, and a plate of calamari washed down with sangria, and my dessert was puff pastry with whipped cream and raspberry coulis. The restaurant started us out with flutes of champagne and finished us off with tiny glasses of sweet muscat dessert wine.
Whitney and I met Denise on study abroad 8 years ago. This day was a lovely reunion and Denise put us next to her for the evening. We also received the delicate gold earrings we would all wear on the big day.
With Denise
Denise and her little brother Daniel, who graduated from Yale last week, and she just got her PhD from Fordham. Busy week for the family.
It rained that night, and for the 3 blocks back to the hotel, I walked in it, enjoying the warm air and the warm droplets on my skin and the warm water in my shoes...
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HEAR YE, HEAR YE
Denise and Clif's BIG DAY
Now get ready, here is the real point of this post:
Apologies for the blurriness of the pics from the wedding. Whit's parents took charge of my camera and as I forgot to change it from video to photo, her mom actually took a series of videos lasting a few seconds each, so the pictures below are screen captures I made the other day! Never ask a mother to use a camera.
Refreshing ourselves after a long photo session all over the Yale Club, we are in a meeting room on the 18th floor to witness the signing of the Ketubah, the traditional marriage contract
The rabbi from the home congregation in Houston tells the story of how Jacob fell in love with Rachel. Her father made Jacob work for him seven years to win her. At the end of the seven years, Jacob was tricked into marrying Leah (because women wore so many coverings back then), so he was forced to work for another seven years before getting Rachel. The Ketubah was originated to avoid substitutions and the bride remains uncovered. Before signing, the bride and groom place their hand on a white cloth to signify their agreement to marry, the groom verifies that this is indeed the woman he wishes to marry, and the contract is signed.
The Ketubah is written in Aramaic. The rabbi, a witness, the best man, bride and groom all sign. This one was a pretty Marc Chagall-esque design with a floating wedding couple at the top and it will be displayed proudly in their new home.
The Chuppah (huppa) in the great hall. It is open on all four sides to symbolize the new home that Clif and Denise will create to welcome family and friends. The rabbi also mentioned something about the Western Wall in Jerusalem where the spirit of G-d (Shekinah) circulates. Groomsmen would stand on one side, opposite the bridesmaids. I stood...in heels...
The bride enters with her parents
The back of her sweet little gown
The ceremony lasted about 45 minutes and included beautiful prayers, scriptures and songs all sung by a cantor, exchange of vows and rings, drinking of wine, joint wearing of a talit (prayer shawl), and the lighting of candles. Denise received a little mezuzah to place on the doorpost of their home. (A small receptacle containing a written verse from the Torah which begins the Shema prayer: Hear, O Israel, the Lord your God, the Lord is One.) Clif stepped on the glass, which symbolizes the destruction of the Temple, "a reminder of losses during our time of joy" and everyone shouted MAZEL TOV while he swept his bride into a joyous kiss!
After the ceremony we adjourned to the roof terrace for a cocktail reception where Whit and I ran into Mike the best man and Tony, two of Clif's friends from Yale.
Then we went down to the 22nd floor for:
Dinner and Dancing in the Ballroom (where I regained control of my camera!):
The blushing bride dances with her daddy
The music was excellent. There was a klezmer band and bride, groom, mothers, fathers, were hoisted up on chairs. We did the big circular dance. I love dancing like this. I rarely ever dance, but I was up for nearly every one during the entire reception. There was the Twist, and by the end we even did a square dance to the Yellow Rose of Texas. Denise had actually assigned us to the table with Mike and Tony so it was a good thing we'd already met. Whit danced with Mike and I danced with Tony. We had a blast!
The Menu
Following the cutting of the challah loaf by the bride's mother, we had:
1) Wild Mushroom Ravioli in a mushroom broth topped with goat cheese
2) Poached Bosc Pear Salad with mandarin slices, a wedge of cambazolla cheese and champagne vinaigrette dressing
3) Choice of Entree:
Roasted Chilean Sea Bass on a mushroom, asparagus, fennel risotto (I chose this)
OR
Grilled Salmon with Mango Salsa on grilled vegetables and roast red potatoes
4) Alternating desserts:
Espresso Cup with mocha mousse
OR
Strawberry Carousel with a chocolate shot and white chocolate mousse (this one I was given)
5) Wedding Cake - red velvet cake (southern recipe) with mascarpone mousse filling
6) Coffee and Tea
The cup is actually made of chocolate!
Behind this I had a little chocolate shot cup - made of chocolate - for pouring
Denise made the ultimate glowing bride. I love her even more now, she is so adorable. Whitney and I are extremely chuffed that our little Denise is married. Clif is in the background with his mother-in-law. Sorry I couldn't get both of them pinned down.
She is in a dress of Spanish design. We bridesmaids wore J.Crew (v. preppy, so it can be reworn on a weekend in the Hamptons, I suppose).
After the reception, Tony gave me a tour of Grand Central station from inside.
Back in my room I got a bit artistic with things. My bouquet on the windowsill of my room with the night view behind.
Good night New York
Thursday will be the day when I say goodbye to England for the second time in my life. I've started to describe it as "re-emigrating". Cuts a long story short.
I can't wait! But also, it isn't sinking in yet apart from moments of brief wowness when I realise/realize what I am doing. (Note, I will be reverting to American spellings.)
Or maybe it's just because my room looks like a bomb hit it. I mean, someone needs to send in the troops to clear up, if any can be spared just now. This to me is an immense stress, having to get rid of things in a country that doesn't know what a yard sale is, where few people own pickup trucks, and one must lug everything in trains to some faraway charity shop.
When this is all over, I deserve a holiday.
My farewell week in London is a bit typical: Rain, rain, driving rain, interspersed with driving drizzle. It goes down the back of your boots and wets your hands while you hold the umbrella handle. I took my winter coat out of the charity bag and wore it today, and my riding boots came out of the shipping box because they are wonderfully waterproof. One of my friends said it was London crying because I'm leaving, but I ain't buying that story...
After tea and croissants this morning with a fellow Blogger blogger (on a business trip from California), I headed back home to change my soaking wet velvet coat for my black wool coat, and headed off to my cousins' family house. My cousin M decided to see me off in fine style with a proper English feast of roast lamb, roast potato, steamed veggies, Yorkshire pudding, and of course plenty of gravy. I ate about 6 Yorkie puds, a personal record. There was still room for cups of tea and a bowl of apple crumble with hot custard. I was so full, I looked like I was growing a baby in there, but then that's quite the norm now. (2007/08 has been the stodgiest (food-wise), most sedentary (job-wise) and most depressing winter of my life, and I need to burn it off with a hot sunny humid summer filled with salads and hiking and yoga. I've been wearing coats for a year and a half. My tank tops and sandals are so well stored I can't find them. You get the idea?)
I will be a headless chicken for the next couple of days, and the next time you hear from me, I'll be in the Big Apple.
So, what's been going on chez moi?
Not much apart from work.
I ended up working until 7pm yesterday to tie up loose ends, as it will be a long weekend with Bank Holiday Monday coming up. I took today off to go to the hospital for my long awaited echocardiogram which was recommended after my electrocardiogram last month. Damn, but the ultrasound thing really hurts - in searching for the best image of my heart they keep kneading the probe into all that sensitive tissue upholstering my female ribs. Go on, have you ever heard it described that way before?
It was a lovely sunny morning in the upper 50s to low 60s (avg 15C) so I wore a nice Ralph Lauren t-shirt and my cotton safari jacket. I preferred to briskly walk the 45 minutes (including getting slightly lost) rather than take the Tube or bus, both horrific roundabout journeys lasting an hour. Got hot and removed the jacket, and when I arrived I was sweating - for the first time in MONTHS! It felt great!
Anyway, I walked unscathed through Harlesden, appropriately comparable to Harlem, or more likely the South Bronx. I did receive a number of stares for looking distinctly out of place.
I arrived the alloted 15 minutes early but ended up waiting an hour even though there were only a handful of people in the waiting room (unusual for the NHS).
The reason I was given this test is because on my visits to the doctor after the shingles, the nurse was unhappy with my blood pressure and heart rate. When I was a teenager, a doctor said she thought I had a heart murmur and should get it checked out before I have children. A few years later another said he could hear a distinct click and whoosh and thought I had mitral valve prolapse (MVP), which is when the mitral valve doesn't close properly, flaps about a bit, and allows blood to seep back into the chamber (mitral regurgitation). This results in a higher risk of infection, so for instance, before going to the dentist I'd take a prophylactic course of antibiotic tablets the morning of the procedure, and then again afterwards. Bleurgh. This is to protect against any bacteria that might get into the bloodstream through the gums. More recently this treatment has been found to be unnecessary.
There are also frequent flutters, skipped or extra beats, and tachycardia (rapid heart rate).
MVP and tachycardia are often symptomatic of a condition called dysautonomia. It is a fickle and varied state, an imbalance of the autonomic nervous system, which regulates the glands and unconscious functions such as breathing and digestion. I have little control over my adrenal glands, for instance, and so it takes very little anticipation to have me awash in adrenaline but because I don't need to run anywhere, I must endure a half hour of weak knees, shaky hands, and some breathlessness due to the hammering heart until it wears off. What's more, sometimes just a half thought can cause my heart to leap. Finally, I sigh a lot and I'm really really easily startled - even if I know someone's coming I can hit the ceiling. Other symptoms of dysautonomia are easy bruising, forgetfulness, frequent headaches, fatigue, panic attacks, joint discomfort, fainting, orthostatic hypotension (dizziness when standing up) aaand so on. For me, personally, the unwanted "fight or flight" state ties for worst with the 2-hour periods of tachycardia when I can sit there feeling as though I've just stepped off the treadmill, only without the sweat.
Then there's the fatigue. Days when you wake up feeling drugged after a long struggle to wake up, somehow glued to the bed because your limbs are deadweight. You drag yourself to work, fighting for every step, then sit glued to the chair, holding your head up with an effort. Lifting your hand to the desk is almost out of the question. You just want to fall face forward into the soup, so to speak. For me, such episodes usually last until mid morning or early afternoon, when it seeps away and then suddenly I bounce up ready to start another day just when everyone else is winding down.
But we very often present as normal people since the symptoms are not always simultaneous, so on good days I doubt whatever happened on bad days. In this way you can go for years without treatment or acknowledgement. You also don't want to walk into a doctor's surgery sounding like a hypochondriac. My current GP is a classic product of the NHS in that the last time I was there and tried to bring up a few of my long-term complaints she clinically shot them down, making me feel rather foolish, and then sat there looking defiance - I think they train them as I've seen it on other British docs' faces before - and probably thinking, "I dare you to come up with another one." This is so that she can get me out of her office in the allotted 10 minutes.
It is 180 degrees from my doc in Houston, who told me that no question was ever a stupid question, so one day I brought up everything that had been troubling me, and in this way he was both kind doctor and reassuring therapist. I left the office that day with a bloody cauterised sinus but all aglow with confidence inside, rather than the mumbling booby I was at my GP last month.
It's ironic since because, let's see, in the US I may have gone to the doctor about 6 times in 14 years. Here, thanks to all the stress and malaise I've been about 6 times in 5 months.
On the other hand, there I went to the dentist every six months. Here, I've been unable to find one so haven't seen one since I visited my old one last time I stopped in Texas (2004).
What's more, I've been to a hospital twice this year (for the ECG and Echo). The last time I saw the inside of one, apart from visiting people, was when I was a few months old and had aspirated some milk which led to an infection and high fever. (Preemies have lazy swallowing reflexes).
Hm. This post became so much longer than I had intended. I always do this when I think I have nothing to blog about. Therefore I ought to blog more often.
My Mo'time profile is now linked to my Mo'page.
My catch up post is below. It's a bit long, so here is the short version. If you want juicy details you can keep going.
Preview:
Since my last (rather long) post got lost somewhere in the mists of Mo'time.
This time I've visited some of you before writing. I really can't say why I drifted away. I guess life, or the lack thereof, happened. I never left good ole Blogger, but I joined the diaspora from 20six to P27 and tried to recreate the same community for a while, but that too went the same way as 20six. A few wandered off to Wordpress. Others stopped altogether. I never ever want to stop blogging, that's certain.
Mo'time is such a small community. It's nice to see many of the old names still here.
So hey, let's do the catch up.
Two years ago I started temping, having given up on ever finding a job in London remotely related to either of my degrees. I hate to say it but I think I wasted a ton of money getting that art history degree at Christies. (There are those who tell me the skillset I acquired is valuable, though.)
The social life was great, what with the private member's club and piano recitals in the drawing room followed by three courses in the dining room. Think foie gras and roast guinea fowl and you've got the idea. Or evening in Chinatown scoffing designer dim sum and tailor made cocktails. Hobnobbing with the nobility.
The temp jobs were mainly in finance so I've got the vocabulary down pat - thankfully I can still remember what a triptych and chiaroscuro are!
However, London has truly been getting me down, wearing me out. It's true what they say. The people are unfriendly, the sky is always grey, it does rain a lot, and it's just so cold. There was no summer last year. It's simply miserable here. Plus I'm completely fed up of the non stop criticism of America and everyone in it, but deep down I think they're just insecure and envious. I am ashamed to be British. And I am proud to be American.
So. Back on topic.
Last year a housemate invited me to a party at the US Embassy. I met a guy from the DoD attache's office there and we dated over the summer, until his reposting to DC. Despite being from Tennessee he reminded me of everything Texan and so many memories came back to me.
We went to loads of fun events, ate great food, saw each other nearly every day, but his time was not his own and what's worse it was during the months surrounding the car bombing in London so he was on call a lot. For once I got to date someone under 6ft, who walks as fast as me. We would cover miles but he never believed I really could walk like that and kept telling me to let him know if I got tired. Heck, I can walk forever, me.
Anwyay, nobody better mess with me now, I know some pretty interesting self defense techniques! Wish I could try them on those kids who mugged me one time.
It was great going out with a southern boy (3 yrs younger than me, hehe). Such good manners, and charmingly old fashioned. Like standing up when a lady leaves the table, or walking on the side of the traffic. Darn, he raised the bar that bit more (and told me never to lower it). These British men seem so boorish now and I haven't looked at one since.
Back on topic again.
A couple of years ago, even before I left my exclusive St John's Wood neighbourhood, I was thinking of leaving London. I knew my time was running out here, but I didn't tell anyone.
At the end of the summer my mother broke her promise to never return to the UK, and joined me here. I wish I had listened that one day when my gut told me to call her and cancel the cargo shipment. At first I thought she would make everything better, and that I could bear to be here more if she were with me, but it actually became worse. I rented and furnished a two bedroom apartment for us with a wraparound balcony and a good view (not that it was ever warm enough to sit out).
We both spiralled into depression. Every day something would go wrong, down to the elevators breaking down, or the new TV not working. I would wake up waiting for the next thing,and also every waking moment I thought of leaving this country.
In September I spent a few days in Toronto bonding with my cousin even more. I was there for the one year anniversary of her boyfriend's death (the boy she was going to marry), and even more importantly, their adorable daughter's christening, when I got to be godmother!
From there I went on to NYC to hang out with my cousin, catch up with some friends I hadn't seen in a while, including some of my old Houston crowd who came up to see me or happened to be in town at the same time. Even one of my cousins from Dallas was in town on business.
I returned unwillingly to London and even more discontent.
So I put in notice and we had to find a new flat by January. Christmas came and we had found nowhere. In desperation we took two rooms in a houseshare until we could find a flat. This is a non-place that even my ex landlady hasn't heard of even though we both live in NW London. But maybe this was a good beginning to the end of my time in this city.
The only thing keeping me going was my job. They wanted to hire me, actually, but I haven't spent all this money on higher education to be a secretary. So they took me on long term, and I appreciate having a steady source of income working with nice people.
Before things got worse deep down, though, I decided I would buy a one-way ticket to my friend's wedding in NYC. However, at Christmas, despite knowing this, my boss asked if I would stay until August. I agreed, but pretty soon my body was here and my mind was...in another country.
Added to that, with the stress, disgust, and depression, I caught every infection going round over the winter from November to March. I am used to being energetic, but I was exhausted every single day. The last straw was developing shingles, yes, kicking me when I'm down. After that the depression deepened enough that I wanted the world to go away. Easter weekend was the worst weekend of my life. Even worse than the one when my father walked out on us in 2001.
On Easter weekend I had some truly dark thoughts about not wanting to live anymore. I lay down on my bed and curled up, but shocked at my actions, I forced myself to get up and keep moving, though it hurt even to breathe. Probably the same spark that kept me going in the preemie ward and earned me the nickname Little Fighter.
Why did I come back here? Ostensibly to earn my Master's degree. It took two years. I should have returned soon after, but I didn't. I wanted to be the little adult and explore the world. And maybe subconsciously I wanted to escape from my parents' divorce. Were it not for the intensive studies, I would have been a useless wreck, apart from a month I lost in a blur after hearing about it.
Again, back on topic - Easter weekend:
The next day at work a perceptive fellow temp said I looked drained. Understanding my frustration because she was forced to leave a good life in South Africa after things changed, she told me a wonderful thing: "Sod the job. If every instinct is crying out for you to go, then go!"
I gave my notice, upset at breaking my word, but relieved at the same time. My boss said she knew I wouldn't make it. Everyone who knew even a little bit said, in short, "It's about time! You stayed longer than we'd expected!"
The next day, I progressively improved and that evening it felt as though the sun had risen in my soul!
And I want to recapture the person that America lets me be - independent, optimistic, ambitious, resourceful.
I am coming home! Yes, I know where my home is now. It is not where I was born, it is in the country that I love. And I should know, it was I who dragged my parents out there 20 years ago!
I had written a catch up post here, and when I changed a post setting, I lost it!!!
Stay tuned for the second attempt, coming soon.
Part I
We were in a plane, it was going down. Bill Cosby opened the emergency hatch at the back, and another guy standing nearby told him to shut it - we were in space!
We were - there was no oxygen outside but nothing was floating inside.
Suddenly I got up and shouted, "Release the oxygen masks!"
I happened to be a young boy with new superhero powers, the activation of which involved putting on a white mitt (looking suspiciously like my facewashing mitt) containing some magical metal element, a knee pad, and something wrapped around my shoulder.
Part II
Suddenly I was in London, as myself once more. I had just left some sort of study session with 4 other people at a professor's house in Islington. However, I found myself in Hackney near a river (there is none in real life) and was trying to get back to a recognisable part of Islington which had similar terraces. Going down a street which I had seen in a dream before, I came across my classmates again near a bus-stop.
Meantime the sun was going down, but we found ourselves on the High Street by nightfall. We stood outside a shop on the High Street. I looked up and saw that the next floor up was a bookshop with a green sign called "Hysbons". I exclaimed, "I know this shop, I had to come here to buy some books for my art history course!"
Part III
Suddenly we found ourselves inside the entryway and a classmate came in behind us bearing cups of coffee and saying, "Here we are!"
To get into the "bookshop" we had to climb up some wooden steps and boxes, and hoist ourselves through a door in the ceiling.
The proprietors were Chinese and as we came in they asked us what flavour ice creams we wanted.
I looked at the clock on the wall and it was all topsy-turvy: where the 1 and 2 are there were a 6 and 7. Apparently 6 and 7 signified it was as late as 1 or 2 am for us. The Chinese lady told us she had our rooms ready for the night, and she headed towards the back of the "shop", expecting us to follow.
Note, I hadn't seen a single book here. In the back of my mind I had inklings of being kidnapped and sold into slavery. Horrified, I just wanted to get home and had no plans of sleeping anywhere other than my own bed!
Here ended the dream.
I woke up feeling quite surprised.
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