Old Age is Everywhere

Man, I'm Old.  This past weekend, I flew home to NC for my 20th (yes, 20th) class reunion.

Except for the people I want to see, many of my classmates I quite literally haven't seen since graduation day back in 1991.  That all changed this past weekend.

I hadn't been to a previous reunion at all, so I was curious to see how this would all go down:  what would people look like? Answer:  half look exactly the same, half I didn't recognize.  Would everyone still be just as stupid (myself included...) as we were in high school? Answer: thankfully, no.  Would people stare at my husband and say 'you talk funny'? Answer: thankfully, no; rather, people were really sweet about his accent.  Would this be one of the lamest things I could be dong on a Saturday night-and regret every painful moment of it? Answer: thankfully, no.
All in all, it was a fantastic weekend.  No, I don't really have much in common with some of my classmates who, aside from college have remained in Hickory, North Carolina their entire lives.  No, I really don't have anything in common with my classmates who have two or three or five or...kids and who looked at the Saturday night event as their one evening out all month.  But, it was great fun to go back and just see how people were doing.  You can't have spent the first 18 years of your life with folks and not wonder how they eventually turned out!

On the flip side of this, as I was in my hometown for the reunion, we stayed with my dad-as we always do when we go to NC.  I had not been 'home' in over 18 months.  I've seen my father at other random locations (Charlotte, when we were passing thru on our way to Las Vegas.  Portland for my wedding), but I haven't seen the house in over 18 months until this past weekend.
I've been very aware for year of the progressing age of my father (he recently turned 74) for some time, but as he's in relatively good health, have probably been mentally postponing what I know is going to be an eventual reality.
The time I was at home this weekend however, made me realize that he is officially approaching the 'old person' status and adopting all of the odd behaviors that old people adopt:  stockpiling random things (Really Dad.  Do you need the beach hotel pricing guide from 2003?  When you also have the 2005, 2008, 2009, 2010, and 2011 issues?....and you've stayed at the same hotel for the past 15 years?), not cleaning the house as thoroughly as it should be cleaned, and just generally picking up some personality quirks that you only typically see in 'old folks.'   It's got me a bit concerned-and has really made me start thinking about how much longer I can continue to live in London, which is a good 8.5 hours away by plane-never mind the simple reality that when living this far away, I'll do good to get to NC once a year.

Can I continue to live in London guilt-free as my father ages, or is it time to put family first and think about moving back to the US and make seeing my dad more frequently a priority?  I knew the time would come when I would have to start thinking about this very issue.  I just thought I'd have a few more years.  Perhaps I'm overreacting a bit, but my mother passed away 16 years ago, and I'm an only child.  My Dad's girlfriend is 80. I am his support network.

This is life.  These are the types of decisions we're all faced with all the time.  I just don't think I'm quite ready to deal with the ramifications of a)making this decision and b)acknowledging what making this decision could mean.

Would it be so much to ask for things to go back to the way they were in High School when we were all younger-and maybe postpone the reality of this situation for another 20 years?

Old Age is Everywhere

Man, I'm Old.  This past weekend, I flew home to NC for my 20th (yes, 20th) class reunion.

Except for the people I want to see, many of my classmates I quite literally haven't seen since graduation day back in 1991.  That all changed this past weekend.

I hadn't been to a previous reunion at all, so I was curious to see how this would all go down:  what would people look like? Answer:  half look exactly the same, half I didn't recognize.  Would everyone still be just as stupid (myself included...) as we were in high school? Answer:  thankfully, no.  Would people stare at my husband and say 'you talk funny'? Answer:  thankfully, no.  Rather, people were really sweet about his accent.  Would this be one of the lamest things I could be dong on a Saturday night-and regret every painful moment of it? Answer:  thankfully, no.
All in all, it was a fantastic weekend.  No, I don't really have much in common with some of my classmates who, aside from college have remained in Hickory, North Carolina their entire lives.  No, I really don't have anything in common with my classmates who have two or three or five or...kids and who looked at the Saturday night event as their one evening out all month.  But, it was great fun to go back and just see how people were doing.  You can't have spent the first 18 years of your life with folks and not wonder how they eventually turned out!

On the flip side of this, as I was in my hometown for the reunion, we stayed with my dad-as we always do when we go to NC.  I had not been 'home' in over 18 months.  I've seen my father at other random locations (Charlotte, when we were passing thru on our way to Las Vegas.  Portland for my wedding), but I haven't seen the house in over 18 months until this past weekend.  
I've been very aware for year of the progressing age of my father (he recently turned 74) for some time, but as he's in relatively good health, have probably been mentally postponing what I know is going to be an eventual reality.
The time I was at home this weekend however, made me realize that he is officially approaching the 'old person' status and adopting all of the odd behaviors that old people adopt:  stockpiling random things (Really Dad.  Do you need the beach hotel pricing guide from 2003?  When you also have the 2005, 2008, 2009, 2010, and 2011 issues?....and you've stayed at the same hotel for the past 15 years?), not cleaning the house as thoroughly as it should be cleaned, and just generally picking up some personality quirks that you only typically see in 'old folks.'   It's got me a bit concerned-and has really made me start thinking about how much longer I can continue to live in London  which is a good 8.5 hours away by plane-never mind the simple reality that when living this far away, I'll do good to get to NC once a year.

Can I continue to live in London guilt-free as my father ages, or is it time to put family first and think about moving back to the US and make seeing my dad more frequently a priority?  I knew the time would come when I would have to start thinking about this very issue.  I just thought I'd have a few more years.  Perhaps I'm overreacting a bit, but my mother passed away 16 years ago, and I'm an only child.  My Dad's girlfriend is 80. I am his support network.

This life.  These are the types of decisions we're all faced with all the time.  I just don't think I'm quite ready to deal with the ramifications of a)making this decision and b)acknowledging what making this decision could mean.

Would it be so much to ask for things to go back to the way they were in High School when we were all younger-and maybe postpone the reality of this situation for another 20 years?

My Favorite Things

I have been crap lately about blogging.  Work has been insane, I've been travelling a ton, and as we are in the heart of the Great British Summer (note the sarcasm...), I've just not had the time.  Well, no more!  I'm eating lunch at my desk today to take a few minute to post something.
This came about as Simon & I were out to dinner Wednesday nite at our favorite Lebanese place-and I remarked, it's a pity (only partially..) that more people don't know about this place-the food/service are incredible! And, thus we started talking about a few of our favorite things in London.  It's been a while since I've done a post of this nature.  But, without further ado-and in no particular order...

• Fontana Lebanese-I'm sure there are cooler, hip-er places in town (some with belly dancers)...but for great food, and great service, this place rates as one of my favorite
• Monmouth Coffee-I've probably talked about this place at least 23,000 on my blog so far-but it bears repeating.  Best. Coffee. In. London.
• Hyde Park-OK. I realize this is like stating the obvious to mention Hyde Park...but, the next time you're in Hyde Park, take a loaf of bread along and go find 'Round Pond.'  You will not be disappointed.
• Monsoon-Clothing shop.  I can count on 2 hands the number of clothing items I've bought in the UK in 3.5 years; UK clothing isn't my 'style', and I simply refuese to pay £30 for a t-shirt that will cost me $15 in the US.  Never mind the psychological warfare that the UK sizing plays on you when looking for the US-size equivalent.  If you're stressed over your size to begin with, the UK isn't the place to be!  Enter Monsoon:  for me *personally*, it's clothing that's my style-and their sizing is so generous, I find that my UK size is usually my US size-or sometimes even smaller.  yea.
• My Local Kebab Shop-I haven't a clue what it's called, and it's not even on Google maps.  But, after a few pints while out and not arriving home until 10pm on a school nite, nothing but nothing tastes better than their chicken schwarma and chips-with tons of garlic mayonnaise and chili sauce.  Yes, it probably contains 1000 calories-and god only knows what the 'chicken' actually is...but once every now & then is surely alright!
• Heathrow Express-15 minutes from Paddington station to Heathrow Airport-and as we live so close to Paddington, we practially live *in* Paddington-means we can be from door to door in under 30 minutes.  I've never lived anywhere in which this were possible. Amazing.

Ok.  Quality over Quantity.  I could probably wang on for ages on other things.  But, at the very least, it's a good start-and on the days I get grumpy over living in this crowded and sometimes rude city, it's a nice reminder for myself!

PS.  Yesterday was my official 3.5 year anniversary in this country.  Where the heck has the time gone??!

London Riots: A Brief Comment

It's not often I walk around the streets of London feeling concerned for my safety-which, I know may be a surprise to most people..  But, with so many people out on the streets, it's usually a safe place to be.

Sadly, for the past 24 hours, I can't say I've felt that way.  Unless you've had your head buried in the sand, you're well aware of the riots that have been happening in London since Saturday nite: the opportunists (as much as I really want to call them all sorts of names, I'll refrain...) are running amok on the streets smashing and grabbing and burning.  And are pathetically using the death of a man as the impetus for the violence.

This behaviour is forcing people like myself indoors; as I walked home last night at 8.30pm, the sidewalks were deserted-and that was not a pleasant feeling-and even once I got home, I saw all of 3 people walk thru our mews (a fraction of the usual footfall), and only 1 car pass by.   No violence per se came 'close' to where I live, but as London is home, it all feels close.

This behavoiur is forcing businesses to close; even the company I work in sent people home at 4.30pm today-and that seems to be common based on what I'm reading on Facebook from my friends who work at companies spread throughout London-regardless of how close they are to the past or present violence.

The upside?  Check out Twitter and search for #riotscleanup  or visit riotcleanup.co.uk
It's not exactly our 'Arab Spring', but perhaps it's the best we can do for now.
Hopefully this is a start to some good happening here in London.
After these past few days, we all need it.

Smooth Move, Laxative!

No, no.  This post isn't what you think it is...

For all of the British-isms I've picked up over the 3.5 (almost!) years I've been in London, I do often forget about the American/Southern-American lingo I continue to spew forth-and many time to my poor husband, who is still learning 'the language.'
Last nite was no exception, and the result was so funny, I have to make note of it.

We were tossing a rubber ball back and forth in the hallway-as us hip, married couples do on a Friday nite-and at one point, Simon fumbled the ball so terribly, I couldn't help but revert to one of my favourite childhood taunts:  Smooth move, Exlax!

The look on Simon's face was one of utter confusion.  So, it dawned on me that Exlax must not be a product that was ever sold here in the UK.  So, I quickly proceeded to explain to him that it was a popular chocolate-flavoured laxitive sold in the US, so the phrase, 'smooth move, Exlax' was meant to imply, well..a sarcasm in someone not being so smooth or fluid in their movements.

He took it onboard like he does many of these things, and we proceeded to keep tossing the ball.  Well, after a few more throws, I too fumbled the ball.

Simon's taunt?  Smooth move, laxitive!

I proceeded to double over in laugher as I dropped the ball.

'Where Are You From?'

Simple question, right?  I used to think so.  Not any more.
This past Sunday, while sitting down to lunch in Paris (rough life, I know...), the Americans sitting at the next table looked at me and said, 'where are you from?' as they heard me talking when I sat down, and darned if Americans aren't friendly to their own kind when they're abroad! :)

And, thus the dillema began.

When living in the US, 'from' implied where I was originally from-as opposed to where I currently lived.   And, as most Americans can still detect a slight Southern accent, my reply, 'North Carolina' isn't a suprise.  Since moving abroad however-and especially since fully settling into life in London-I really have no idea how to answer that question.  If I say, 'London' (which I did in this case....), I immediately get:  'oh, wow.  you don't sound  British.'  And, then I usually have to follow up with explainig that no, I'm not British-I just live there. I'm most recently from Seattle.  Invariably, the Southern accent gets mentioned, and then I have to further clarify that I'm originally from North Carolina.

Who ever knew that such a simple question could create such a complicated response!  Maybe I'm just making this more complicated than it needs to be.

So, blog readers....when people ask you 'where are you from?' how do you respond?

Left versus Right

I've been meaning to post about this for a while, but after two seperate comments from friends when I was back in the US recently, I knew I had to get this up tout de suite!

We Americans eat differently than the Brits.  And, after living here for 3 years, I'm starting to come around to the way the Brits do it more & more often (hence the friends' comments).  What do I mean, you ask?  Simples.

Americans, when faced with needing to use a knife with their meal, will put the knife in their right hand and fork in the left.  We'll cut our food, and then switch hands and use the fork in the right hand to eat with.  Back and forth and back and forth.
Not the Brits.  Once the knife goes in the right hand, it stays there.  And, even more interestingly is that unlike Americans who will use the fork in a scooping motion, the Brits don't flip the fork over; rather, they use the knife to scoot food onto the back of the fork tines and then eat.

To wit:



Brit Eater




American Eater

What really brought this home for me was last night:  Simon & I took a dinner cruise on the Thames-and there appeared to be a fairly even split of Brits & Americans on the boat (based on the accents I heard).  Once we settled in to dinner & I was looking around, it was even more apparent as I observed the different styles of fork/knife usage.
After 3 years of being in London, I'm starting to notice that I'm adopting this style of eating too (hence the friends' comments when I was in the US).  Not all the time, but half the time at least.  It kinda makes sense:  the back & forth kife/fork switching really is unnecessary.

Though, I can't help but wonder how the 'American-style' came to pass..