Home.

Ah, home, sweet, home...Wherever that is.

In case you ever wonder if it's physically possible to gain 4 pounds in one week, let me assure you that it is. Dear God, I don't think I had a single meal in which I walked away from the table feeling anything less than *stuffed*. By the end of my week in Hickory, I was actually tired of eating-and in serious need of some exercise that extended beyond walking around the mall for 30 minutes!
It was great to be back home in Hickory for Christmas (and the sunny, 64 degree Christmas day was a nice surprise)-getting to see Dad is always a good thing, and catching up with a few freiends was also fun. But, as I haven't actually *lived* in Hickory in almost 17 years, 'home' is a relative term; a small part of me was just as excited to return to London as I was to go to Hickory to begin with.
Don't get me wrong...The first Cherry-Lemon-Vanilla-Sundrop at Shell's BBQ is always a welcome taste (and don't get me started on the sweet tea...), but were it not for my father still living there, I don't think I'd really have a reason to go back to Hickory. On some level-partially because it's changed so much over the years-Hickory isn't 'home' any longer. Rather, it's just the place I came from.

They say, 'home is where the heart is,' and I guess it really is true. And though London does feel like home in many ways, it still doesn't completely. Neither does Hickory. I guess the closest thing to home for me is still Seattle (partially because I still own a physical 'home' there...), but since I'm not there at the moment, I wonder, does that make me homeless in some way?

Wowsers

Well, I didn't see this coming. Honestly...

Simon & I were chatting Saturday nite and I had just told him that my renter had informed me Friday nite that he was planning on moving out at the end of his lease (so much for wanting to stay put for 2 years...). Anyhoo, I told him I was stressed out at the prospect of having to find another renter-and get everything sorted-from London, and especially freaked out at the prospect of having many, many months of a rentless mortgage to pay. ugh. I told him absolute worst case scenario was that my place stood empty for so long, I couldn't financially swing mortgage and rent (read: previous post about the loss of the GPB to the USD...), and would have to move back to Seattle. Ironically, as I had thought about this the previous 24 hours, I realized that I *really* wasn't ready to move back to Seattle.

So, we were talking about ways to save money here in London-and it goes without saying that the most obvious way would be for me to move to a cheaper place. But, as I told Simon, though that were certainly possible, the lack of space (the tradeoff for a cheaper place) would be a challenge for Sarah & I, given the setup we have now. Then he dropped the bomb on me: 'Well,' he said, 'would you consider finding a flat with me?' Wow.

I think my heart actually stopped for a moment. At the rate of about a billion thoughts in a split second, I realized that yes, I would want to do that-cost savings aside-because I did want to live with him and spend more time with him. I told him I would like very much to do that-and then I confessed about my epiphany from two weeks ago (I still hadn't screwed up the courage to tell him), and told him he was my lobster.

We didn't exactly hammer out the fine details-and I still need to have a chat with Sarah about this. Our lease doesn't expire until the end of March, so there's time. But, it's funny: just the thought of doing this with Simon suddenly made the stress of my renter leaving seem much, much less.

Ouch

The plummet of the GPB to the USD officially hit 'ugly status' for me this week.

I just did a back of the envelope calculation of what my current GBP salary would be in USD, and it turns out I'm actually making LESS now in USD than when I transferred from the US. And, I'm not talking about just a few hundred dollars. I'm talking about a loss of almost 10%.

WTF?!?!

An Epiphany

You know how some of the most defining moments or thoughts can come at the most mundane times in your life when you least expect it? Well, it appears as if that's what happened to me at dinner Saturday nite.

One of my oldest and dearest friends, Jen, is in town visiting, and she, Simon & I went out to dinner Saturday nite. We'd finished a fantastic meal-and I think between the outstanding food, yummy wine, and general good time, there was a halo of happiness over us as we were just chit chatting away about this and that. Jen & Simon were talking about I don't even know what, and then it hit me like a ton of bricks: I want to spend the rest of my life with this guy sitting here next to me. I'm not sure where the thought came from; it's not like I was sitting there having an internal debate with myself-I was actually listening to the conversation. But, there it was anyway.

Admittedly, the past two months or so, I have begun having a bit of an internal debate-is he?isn't he? if he is/isn't, how/when will I know? if he is, what does that mean? if he isn't, now what? London? the US? somewhere else?....on an on. I had pretty much resolved myself to not resolving anything for a while. Then Saturday nite-and wham.

Just when you least expect it.