Well I guess it's time for me to end this blog. As it's served it's purpose. There are several other stories that I need to write up in here but I haven't gotten a chance. If you're really my friend, you've already discovered my other blog.... or know how to find me to find the new blog with a different perspective in it all together.

My mother tends to worry. She's so very glad that I'm home. While I am back in Texas now, my European Misadventures still come back to haunt me. There's a lot of work in Europe that I keep getting signed up for. The ReadMyBreasts guy keeps emailing me to ask me to help him cheat on these exams that our company makes us pass for technical proficiency in the product. It's weird. I never thought that my ethics classes in school would come back to really be valuable. But they did certainly teach me certain tactics to help maintain some professional relationships while keeping my integrity. Weird. Thanks TAMU.

y'all have fun!

What's in a name? A rose by another name...

I have a pet peeve and I'm frustrated as hell. So I am just going to say it. Please whatever you do, don't fucking misspell my name when it's written a half dozen times in front of you. It's disrespectful, rude, and just plain fucking annoying. That is all.

Things I will miss about the UK....

Turkish Kebabs and roundabouts. That's about it.

Oh! I thought of one more. I will miss being able to look up any address on google maps by just putting in the post code. Love the way they do their post codes. That's it. Done now.

This is where I want to be right now. I just think it would be peaceful, relaxing, and serene. I don't really have much to say right now. I've gotten to go to Copenhagen where they showed me this thing called a Data Center. Yes. I know. novelty. Never seen racks upon racks of server and networking equipment. I've never entered a room with a fully equipped haylon system and gentle glow of florescent lights. Nope. never. Ever. Tomorrow I get to see a data center in Stuttgart Germany. Wee.

Castles? nope. Cathedrals? Nope. None... Just a bunch of data centers. Yippee. Hope everyone has a super awesome fun day. Much love.

In other news, the Canadians are getting decimated at hockey. It's been a good series thus far but I was hoping it would go to 7 games. Probably isn't going to happen.

Feels like today....

I just want to run. I want to hide. I want to be ME. If only I could figure out who ME is. Have you ever woken up one morning to realize that you need freedom? That every choice you've made up til now, moving here, taking the job that sucks your soul from your body, and not taking care of your passions has culminated in a single solitary moment when you realize that you want OUT. Admittedly I'm scared. I don't want to be poor. I like the disposable income I've accumulated. But what good does 800K airline miles do when no one wants to use them to come visit you? I want love. I want freedom. I want laughter. I don't want to be an engineer anymore. Well I do but not like this. I love people. I was made to be around people. I was made to be a great friend, fantastic lover, super cool sister, funny daughter, and did I mention fantastic lover? That's who I was meant to be. Here the ME I know has been reduced to flying here there and yonder encased in a shell of propriety known as professionalism. I NEED AN OUTLET. I just have to find one. Yesterday.

In other news today I fly to Newcastle to get DD some beer... and do a lot of work for a very large service provider... think BIG.. think Plano... think REALLY FUCKING BIG. Then about midnight I land back in London only to turn around and be in the city tomorrow, at the major networking company that we're partnering with, and then get on another flight off to Copenhagen. There less than 24 hours and then back to London where I have another meeting in Canary Wharf. Then it'll be Friday. Friday I have an interview. Wish me luck.

Oh and I cut myself shaving in my shower today. Bad. Like gross bad. I detest that the shower is so freaking small that you can't bend over and I have to do the precarious ballerina dance to attempt to shave my legs. Welcome to the not so great Britain where the shower is so freaking tiny you can't shave. No wonder hygiene is the last thing on their list here.

Vibrator Races

My sincerest apologies dearest friends for not posting lately. Admittedly I haven't been inspired to post funny, amusing tales. If you know me, you know how introspective I can sometimes be. This should not surprise you. For any of you that don't know me, know that my heart and my passion is like the sun, burning bright and bold even in darkness and amplified with solar flares. It's just who I am. I am learning to embrace my passionate creative side and make new choices with my life to become the woman I want to be.

Now onto the funny.

This week was a hectic week here at the office. There aren't many tales from my numerous 'admirers' from around the world. I heard from SwedishStalker, SeattleJoe, and StalkerSteve in the past months but nothing amusing to retell. I'm above that :) However I did meet the most hilarious man on Wednesday night. He works for a company where we are currently selling into. This company shall rename nameless to protect the innocent.... or not so innocent in this case. I shall call him, Scottish Bard, for that is who he is. Holding court around the bar, Scottish Bard retold stories of his misspent youth in drunken revelry. An older man, Scottish Bard suffers from short man syndrome and overcompensates by being HILARIOUS. He talks openly about his divorce, his new wife, and his passion for fishing... not catching but fishing. Every story had me clutching my side in laughter... tears were streaming down my face as my mouth froze into a perpetual smile. He was THAT funny. It wasn't the story itself or the words he chose that made it funny... it was the delivery. He had perfect comedic timing. He ends every routine with "Is that wrong?". Noo... It's not wrong to manipulate your ex-wife by insulting her new beau. Not at all.


My favorite story was one where he spoke of a time (admittedly not so long ago.. a year or two) where he was working with a manager down on Canary Wharf. Innocently I had mentioned that every girl needs a few accessories. I had NO idea that this innocent comment would lead me down a yellow brick road paved with lecherous intent. (apologies as my delivery won't come close to his animated storytelling style). One evening after a night of drinking the manager invited them over to his flat. The entire team was there and quite inebriated from the sound of it. The lady of the manor wasn't home but one of the team members found her stash of accessories... the naughty drawer. Clearing off the coffee table, the team decided to race all of the vibrators across the coffee table. After a frenzied pre-race shot, each member had their vibrator of choice. They took off and after a few minutes, it turns out the the rabbit won. He even characterized each type and described how the eggs would just turn around in circles. As with all of his stories, he ended with, "Is that wrong?" Not willing to admit I had been blushing the whole time, I replied with a very subtlety sarcastic "Nooo". In all of my stubbornness, I knew that this discourse was a test to see how I would react... Not allowing myself to admit that I was shocked, I put on a straight face and laughed. This was nothing compared to the Brown's conversation I overheard yesterday... I guess it's true what they say about the British... Chivalry is dead. British gentleman is most certainly an oxymoron. File all of this information in the things I never wanted to know box, filed away but not forgotten. So very educational.

Bank Holidays

Yesterday was a Bank Holiday. To normal people and by that I mean Americans, it means business as usual with the obvious small inconviniences of banks, schools, and public offices being closed. Normally a holiday isn't that big of a deal. Unfortunately the UK takes its holidays to extreme. Case in point, I arrived at my gym for my normal 6:30 run only to realize that the gym would be closed. It's a bank holiday. Lovely. (note: yes. pretty much everything either opened late or was closed entirely like shops, grocery stores, and dining establishments... any excuse not to work and the British will take it)

So, relentless in pursuing a good opportunity to work up a good sweat and lather, I decide to take my run outdoors.. in the pouring rain... on a path I've never tread before. Carpe Diem right?!? Yep. Absolutely. Emboldened by my adventurous spirit and devil may care attitude, I decided to take a quick drive to a small town called Goring, just off the River Thames. The web site for footpaths foretold of adventures unparalled anywhere in Europe. This quaint little town with its majestic views of manor houses and beautiful river front footpaths would inspire anyone. For once, the British weren't embellishing. It was really pretty even in the rain. I even got to see sites that I hadn't even thought about like glancing toward a manor house and seeing the rather old manor couple going at it like two dogs in heat... on the kitchen table... with all of the windows open... EWW! My eyes! A bit later I was so awe-inspired by the lock system used to push this huge yacht through the harbour that I failed to see this branch in my path. Yes. You guessed it right. Head over toes, I tumbled along the muddy hill like Joan Wilder in Romancing the Stone, except without the graceful plop and a handsome Michael Douglas to pick me up. Carefully feeling around to locate my glasses and IPOD, I popped back up and kept running... in the mud. Yes. I am smart. I had to keep running as the sun was coming out and I didn't have anything to cover the seats in my mini. What a great, smelly way to dry off!

What's really sad is I did this completely sober. Yes. You heard it here first... I'm totally sober. No more than 1 glass/bottle/pitcher of alcohol per 24 hours shall pass these lips. Ever again.

Oh and I stole a picture off some other website to show you what the view is supposed to look like when the sun is out. This lock mechanism is fascinating! I am such a nerd but I did walk back just to watch to see how they took this huge yacht through the lock. It was incredible engineering... Yes. I know... Panama canal on much smaller scale. Shhh. I'm a closet nerd. Peace. Much love.

Pleasure to meet you...

Oftentimes, people ask me just why i'm not dating here in the UK. Well the reason for this is best illustrated by personal encounters of the male species. Whether they are homo sapiens is still debatable. A couple of weeks ago, I was running late for after work drinks to meet our new sales executive. I was casually dressed in a chic t-shirt that had some scroll work on the front, jeans and jean jacket. Upon arriving at the pub, I started walking toward the table where my party was sitting only to have a mysterious hand caress my backside. When I finally reached my party, ignoring the slight from some slovenly drunk savage, I was introduced to the new sales executive who without a single greeting said, "Pardon me while I read your breasts." Laughing it off because I had no idea what else to do, he literally stared at my breasts for a full 2 minutes attempting to read the scrollwork on my shirt. Would you date these men? I've got more... much more where that came from.

Soul Food

Easter Sunday. Picture it people. Girls in their pastel dresses and white bonnets. Boys muddy from getting their sunday clothes dirty. Easter Eggs scattered throughout the yard. Chocolate bunnies with missing ears... Got it? got that picture in your head? Good... Now insert me into the middle of it wearing my jeans and t-shirt that I have been wearing for 3 whole freaking days! yes. That's right. Everyone else was pristine in their Easter Sunday best and my Easter dress that I had ordered was in Tuscon Arizona! 3 whole days without my clothes makes for a very frumpy, frazzled girl. But I still had a great Easter. In fact, I decided to make dinner Sunday night. We barbequed.

I decided to make 3 cheese baked macroni and cheese. Yum. I had visions of soul food dancing in my head. Forget sugarplums. Give me the barbeque, mac and cheese, and some chocolate cake. Yum! So I had the vision. I even made the grocery list. I even made sure that the grocery store was open before departing to ensure that victory would be mine. So we departed for the grocery store, list in hand, and purchased the ingredients. Jet lag and cosmic misfires aligning, we got all the way back to the house only to realize that I had neglected to get macroni! How does one make mac and cheese without the macroni? So I had to go all the way back to get the key ingredent. And then it was really yummy!

The Revolving Door

Wow what an exhausting trip. But I am no worse for wear. Fear not for I am good. I'm making the most of my whirlwind tours until I came face to face with my new arch nemesis, the revolving door. No. This not some profound nemesis like in the movie Sliding Doors but an actual revolving door that decided to twart my ability to get precious hours of sleep. When I arrived at the hotel in Brussels Tuesday evening, the revolving door was the only one swinging. The hotel was quiet. All of the NATO politicians were nestled in their beds dreaming up new little policies for governing millions. Even the cleaning staff had departed hours ago.

Of course me, I just wanted to sleep. It had been a harrowing day of activity with tons of to and fro meetings. The install and meetings went well but even that wasn't enough to keep me energized throughout the night. Mr. Sandman decided to blast his sleeping draught at me like an epic blizzard. I had made it through. I was about to reach my goal after taking trains to gatwick, london victoria, heathrow and flying to brussels. Literally feet away from my absolute final destination, I was stopped dead in my tracks. You see precisely at midnight, the revolving door stops spinning. It powers down. No workie, comprendo? A few seconds before, I had stepped into the revolving door to make my journey to the hotel checkin when I saw it start to slow and eventually stop, trapping me inside. It took nearly an hour for me, laughing becuase what else is a sleep deprived girl to do at midnight trapped in a revolving door, to get out as the hotel staff had to call an electrician to power the revolving door back up. I made the night staff's night by that little stunt. Bridget Jones has nothing on me!

I am attempting to publish this on the blogspot which has automatically determined my IP address is in Belgium. Thus ALL THE FREAKING MENUS are in DUTCH. I should take a picture as you probably don't believe me... but here I am typing away with menus labelled, Veroffentlichen, Einstellungen, and Vorlage!?!

Travel Plans...

Here's an update for you. I know how much you love hearing my crazy schedule. So here goes. Hold on tight boys and girls because this is a wild ride. Tonight, in order to make an 8am appointment tomorrow, I have to take a train to Gatwick. This journey will probably be an uneventful train ride lasting approximately two hours. I'll get off at the airport, approach one of the many hotels in the area, check in, and sleep. Mind you this is after a full days worth of meetings that I am callously neglecting right now to write up this little tidbit. After I get up in the morning, I'm going to start off my day right with a nice running session because I am going to need it to keep my nerves from going haywire. So I have an 8am appointment in Crowley to do an install. This install should take about 2 to 3 hours to complete. Once that is done, I get back in a taxi, go to the hotel, pick up my bags, take a train to Victoria Station. Once at Victoria Station, depending upon time, I'll either leave my bag there or hitch an underground train to Paddington. Then zoom across town yet again for a meeting at Canary wharf. This meeting is going to last at least an hour and a half. Note time delays and travel times that this meeting is probably going to last until 5:30 pm. Lovely huh? I'm not even getting started yet. Once that meeting ends, I hop on the train to zoom back out of town. This time I'm destined for not Gatwick. No we couldn't have made it that easy but Heathrow where my 8pm flight will be anxiously waiting to take me to Brussels. Once at the Brussels airport, I deplane, get my bag, eat some dinner, and collapse into yet another hotel bed to start my day again at 5am tomorrow. Yippee.
Oh and by the way, my 2 and a half days in Brussels are easy cheesy.. Just get up at 5am, go running, drive 2.5 hours to little podunk customer site, train them on product usage and boring network performance stuff, and then drive the 2.5 hours back to the only decent hotel. Rinse and Repeat. Lovely huh? You think I'm crazy don't you? Well I am beginning to believe you're right.

Oh and I have a new set of goals and vision statement. I am taking steps to live the life I've always wanted! I can't wait to weigh 140lbs by August 18, 2007! I'm going to love being energic, fun, adventurous, and fun! Much love !

Quandary and Growth....

I thought you deserved a brief update from my adventures abroad. I know you have been waiting with baited breath, anticipating my next revelation. It's okay. I know. I promise to post more. I actually have numerous personal developments not suitable for such a wity and fun blog. However I do have a question to pose. Perhaps you can help. Given my most recent exploits and developments I wonder if I should continue friendships obtained via the internet. Specifically, I continue to get a daily email from Swedish stalker. Should I learn from previous misrepresentations of my affections and personality by ceasing talking to said stalker? My first inclination is that this Swede, while socially awkward is not a determint to my personal security and safety. Although I've made the mistake before that people were harmless, I must admit that I enjoy making new friends and learning from different people.
Should I learn from my past mistakes and just disconnect myself from potential misguided romance? Or should I continue to be a gentle, good hearted person who likes being nice and learning from people to appease loneliness?


While I'm not a fan of John Mayer, one of my friends pointed out the lyric that I quite like. He's the best for putting my mind at ease and allowing me to slumber quite peacefully. Having great friends like him make my world go around. I don't want to lose these friends due to selfish concern for my own security and integrity. He's a great friend. I can learn a lot from him.

I'd like to think the best of me
Is still hiding up my sleeve

Man's best friend...

A friend of mine lost his god yesterday. The best companion known to man, a dog is a lifeline of the human soul. Never reflecting malice for its owner, the dog protects its loved ones with a passion so true that I am always inspired by their loyalty and devotion. Yes, I am sentimental for a dog. I think I need a puppy and not a man... So I leave you with this.... A little joke I found online.. I promise to love forever anyone who sends me a lab puppy. Or maybe a Cocker Spaniel... Hmm. Or a German Shepard? Maybe... Maybe I need a

WHY DOGS ARE BETTER THAN MEN
1. Dogs do not have problems expressing affection in public.2. Dogs miss you when you're gone.3. You never wonder whether your dog is good enough for you.4. Dogs feel guilt when they've done something wrong.5. Dogs don't brag about whom they have slept with.6. Dogs don't criticize your friends.7. Dogs admit when they're jealous.8. Dogs do not play games with you -- except fetch (and then never laugh at how you throw).9. Dogs are happy with any video you choose to rent, because they know the most important thing is that you're together.10. Dogs don't feel threatened by your intelligence.11. You can train a dog.12. Dogs are already in touch with their inner puppies.13. You are never suspicious of your dog's dreams.14. Gorgeous dogs don't know they're gorgeous.15. The worst social disease you can get from dogs is fleas. (OK, the *really* worst disease you can get from them is rabies, but there's a vaccine for it, and you get to kill the one that gives it to you.)16. Dogs understand what "no" means.17. Dogs don't need therapy to undo their bad socialization.18. Dogs don't make a practice of killing their own species.19. Dogs understand if some of their friends cannot come inside.20. Dogs think you are a culinary genius.21. You can house train a dog.22. You can force a dog to take a bath.23. Dogs don't correct your stories.24. Middle-aged dogs don't feel the need to abandon you for a younger owner.25. Dogs aren't threatened by a woman with short hair.26. Dogs aren't threatened by two women with short hair.27. Dogs don't mind if you do all the driving.28. Dogs don't step on the imaginary brake.29. Dogs admit it when they're lost.30. Dogs don't weigh down your purse with their stuff.31. Dogs do not care whether you shave your legs.32. Dogs take care of their own needs.33. Dogs aren't threatened if you earn more than they do.34. Dogs mean it when they kiss you.35. Dogs are nice to your relatives.

HOW DOGS AND MEN ARE THE SAME
1. Both take up too much space on the bed.2. Both have irrational fears about vacuum cleaning.3. Both are threatened by their own kind.4. Both like to chew wood.5. Both mark their territory.6. Both are bad at asking you questions.7. Neither tells you what's bothering them.8. Both tend to smell riper with age.9. The smaller ones tend to be more nervous.10. Both have an inordinate fascination with women.s crotches.11. Neither does any dishes.12. Both fart shamelessly.13. Neither of them notice when you get your hair cut.14. Both like dominance games.15. Both are suspicious of the postman.16. Neither knows how to talk on the telephone.17. Neither understands what you see in cats.

WHY MEN ARE BETTER THAN DOGS
1. Men only have two feet to track in mud.2. Men can buy you presents.3. Men don't have to play with every man they see when you take them around the block.4. Men are a little bit more subtle.5. Men don't eat cat turds on the sly.6. Men open their own cans.7. Dogs have dog breath all the time.8. Men can do math stuff.9. Holiday Inns accept men.

Beep Beep!

So sorry for not posting lately. Sid Vicious was kind enough to chastize me throughoughly. Last week I spent a few days in Ireland but unfortunately I wasn't able to stay for St. Patrick's Day. Nevertheless, I spent St. Pat's at a parade in London and being domestic. I know... Eee gads what has gotten into her? :P She's domesticating.. Well I just needed a break. But now she's back in full swing. Up to her old tricks and drama. For your viewing pleasure, as I rarely do photo posts, my NEW CAR (said in that cheesy Price is Right tone).

Isn't she pretty?

Oh and for you X, the platform 9 3/4 picture I promised. They even have a luggage cart stuck into the middle of the brick where you pose to look like you're about to pass through it. So cool.

All aboard for the Hogwart's Express....

Today I took a diverted route on my way to Hatfield. I stopped off at platform 9 and 3/4 at King's Cross train station, where Harry Potter and other Hogwarts students depart for Hogwarts each year. It was a magical day indeed.

After rushing through the brick entryway, I was instantly transported into a beautiful train depot with a steam locamotive about to depart for Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardy. More details to come... (yes I have a fanciful imagination but you love me for it)

Scary Movie 3

Ever done a really stupid thing? I mean like completely irrational stupidness? I think perhaps everyone has at one point or another. I did that tonight and I can't seem to shake it. You see. I have this fear. It's a completely irrational stupid fear born out of watching too many late night horror stories about the single girl alone in her apartment.

For a split second, I let this unconscious thought creep into my mind like the mist rising off of Lake Eerie. It doesn't last long. just a split second. But then that thought takes on roots and is planted deep in my mind. I can't shake it. It's always there in the back of my mind. It's this mind numbing fear that any moment, there will be someone appear in my doorway or behind me in the mirror as I was my face. It scares the ever living daylights out of me so much so that I can't sleep. I can't even find myself a way to get to my bed and huddle under the covers. It will pass and I'll be fine. Logically I know that no one has broken into my apartment. It's a silly little fear but it's paralyzing all at the same time. So I'll stay here for a few more hours until I am exhausted, then run to my bed and huddle in the darkness praying for the boogyman not to get me. I will fall to sleep and tomorrow the sun will be out and I'll be fine once again. Silly Metalchick. You have some very weird quirks to you.

Two left feet....

So sorry for not posting more. I know how much you admire my sappy musings. But I have been busy with friends and family. This past weekend I went to Pittsburgh for a few days just to attend a wedding shower and bachelorette party for a friend who is getting married. Yes I flew all of that way just for a day of snow but I didn't care. It was worth it. I wouldn't have missed it for the world and I have some great memories to take home with me. They are better than all that sleep I would have gotten otherwise.

In my haste in packing for the trip, I did the unthinkable. I had set everything out, got the whole outfit together. I was going with the black theme since it's easier to pack by shades or themes for optimal packing efficiency and flexibility with style. So there you have it. Only when I arrived in Pittsburgh, I realized that instead of packing my pair of black heels with the white stitching, I packed 1 left black heel with stitching and 1 brown platform with buckle.... Yes. I am smart... So we had to make a mad dash to the mall, which turned out to be a 6 hour trip to the mall filled with laughter, funky hats from Ann Taylor, me getting 4 new sweaters, and B getting a dress for 7.50 that orginally cost 130. Oh and PA doesn't have sales tax! Wahoo!

Then we got all dressed up, made it about 5 inches on the slippery slidey thing they call a road, turned around and went back to the house. We spent the bachelorette party drinking diet dr pepper and talking around the kitchen table. It was the best time I have had in forever.


Oh and I embarrassed myself by screaming in exhaultation when K's dad brought out the Diet Dr. Pepper. Oh how I have missed thee. I didn't realize how much I missed Diet Dr Pepper until I was reunited with its wonderful flavors, acid and psuedo sugar. hmm ambrosia for the gods.

Oh how embarrassing....

A few weeks back I was attending a conference in Cannes, France. This conference like most of my conferences are filled with 3,000 men. All of whom are network engineers, analysts, consultants. You would think that I would be in heaven right? No. Not exactly. As DD so adequately explained to me, these guys have zero game. Actually negative game. So their antics tend to drive me bonkers.

During lunch at the trade show, I had sat down briefly to enjoy what little normal food I could find on the buffet. I had settled for a ham and cheese pannini. I was looking forward to some quiet time to relax before going back and talking to more people. Then, my lovely luck, a gentleman sits across the table from me. Since this is Europe, appropriate distance and space regulations are significantly smaller than in the US. That and this guy wanted to talk to a female. It was written on his face. So I said 'fuck it' and chit chatted with him for a while. I explained what it is that I do (big mistake) and who I am. He was enthralled. He was ready to throw out the red carpet, engage a 40 piece band, and march down 5th avenue singing my praises with trumpets and a ticker tape parade. This was probably the 80th conversation that I had engaged in that day so I wasn't very impressed with myself. I was tired of talking but I let him do a lot of talking about himself. He's from Sweden, a network engineer, and enjoys long walks in the cold. After I had finished my lunch, I had to get to a meeting so I politely made my excuses and left. A nice pleasant conversation with a nice guy at lunch at Networkers. No big deal. All but forgettable.

Fast forward to yesterday. I was on my way to a customer site when an email hits the sales at mycompany.com email address. This email address is a distribution list for all sales team members (about 100 people in all). So imagine my surprise when the email starts off with "I was recently in Cannes and would like to speak to a woman who works for your company. She lives in the UK...." He goes on to explain that he was really impressed by me and would like to get my contact information. Yes. the whole sales team gets a copy of this email address. He enlists the team to find out who I am and what my contact details are. I will NEVER live to hear the end of this one. It's quite embarrassing getting hit on by a Swede with 100 of your coworkers watching. I am still blushing.

As soon as it was sent, I emailed the list directly with an "i'll take care of this"... Wrong wording to use. I started getting emails from all of our sales team. Here's a snippet of the one-liners I received:
"Oh I'll bet you'll take care of him"
"Be sure to get perfume, candles, flowers, and chocolate before you give it up to him"
"Your fame preceeds you"

One of the guys also said:
"I too met a beautiful woman recently at networkers. She had rays of sunshine in her hair." He goes on for a few paragraphs about molten chocolate eyes and rich, pouty, red lips... Seriously.

I will never live this one down. EVER.

New Discoveries

It's amazing what can happen when someone embarks upon a walk through the historic city centre of Reading. Today I discovered a great market full of fresh produce, meats, and foods. There were even wonderful cheeses imported directly from France. I stocked up on enough food for a week with some great bread, cheese, crackers, and the most important ingredient of all... WINE. Yes, that wonderful grape concoction that makes my blood boil with anticipation. The ruby red liquid swirls in my glass emitting a bouquet of scents a dozen flowers could never produce. The lovely velvety texture cascades down my throat like a pure intoxicating waterfall. I write this as I am consuming an intoxicating elixir from Southern Australia. A Shiraz with a bountiful array of flavors with hints of cherry and and spices. It's quite literally made my day. If only I could meet a man to love as purely as I love this wine, I would endeavor to make him feel the way I do. One day. We shall see. There is always hope.

The sun was out today as I sniffed the flowers at the flower mart and perused a variety of breads. The anonymity of having no one know who I am in this strange city was actually quite humbling. It reminded me that my petty concerns are felt by all and that all of the concerns I have for this world while important in the grand scheme of things are moot. Life continues in the way that it has for centuries before I was born. It will continue years after I am gone. I don't aspire to grand history-making feats like conquering worlds or becoming famous or rich. I just want to be loved. To be loved, it requires me to love. To love unconditionally, without bias or malice. To forgive those who have hurt me the deepest and let life continue. To greet each day and each person as a new beginning and strive each day to not let the past hurts and disappointments cloud my hope for the future. This is above all my greatest wish. To be loved. And to love.


Oh and I woke up this morning with the sniffles. I think I have allergies. I put my sheets in the wash 7 hours ago only to get them out and they remained damp. I may have to sleep on the couch tonight and let them air dry. That is about it.

Good luck. Good night.

Barbara De Angelis
Love and kindness are never wasted. They always make a difference. They bless the one who receives them, and they bless you, the giver.

Adapting quite nicely I suppose...

Today I do not have that much to post. I am adapting quite nicely. I have learned to say rubbish bin when I mean trash can, chips when I want french fries, crisps when I want chips, and bloody fucking hell is not so sparingly intermixed with my normal speech... So I am a true American Brit. Lovely. Just bloody brilliant.

In other news, I leased a car today. I won't be purchasing a car but these boots, dress heels, and flip flops were not made for walking 5 miles to the grocery store. To be civilized I leased a car... not just any car mind you... But... are you ready for this? I don't think you're ready...

A Mini! Yes that's right a mini! It's green just like the one below... Yes! I might be a good Brit afterall.

New Pictures soon...

I know I owe you new pictures of my flat. I have some from before I started decorating. Today I purchased a desk that should come in very soon. I am also trying to find a way to recover the ugly couches with something a little more modern. I am going with light blue and chrome in the bathroom. The kitchen is also stainless steel with light oak table. I purchased some violets in the corner store today to provide some color. Going with lavendar in the living room I think. It doesn't go with the Maroon quilts but those are special and have to stay. Is it too girly? I feel girly and want it to stay uncluttered, soft, warm, and inviting. Lavendar accomplishes this while staying neutral. Pictures are worth 1000 words I think. Working on it. Promise.

Oh and my misadventures in washing clothes was right as suspected. The all in one washer dryer doesn't know how to dry. Thus my intimate appareal is still on gratuitous display drying. BUT it did do a good job of making the place smell rather nice. Like lilacs and soap. Not bad.

I feel dirty

I just got referred to as a sales engineer... I feel really really dirty. Must go wash my mouth out with soap.

Not made for this....

This past week, I spent the week in France. It was an amazing week filled with lots of laughter, wine, and good people. I felt at home again getting an opportunity to see the people I work with from the states. I had a great time but I have lingering doubts that I am not made for this. I am not made for sales. I don't think.

For example, I can't seem to get this one gentleman out of my head. In his suspenders and waist-high pants, he comes up to me during booth duty and thrusts one of our glossy data sheets in his hand. His eyes were alight with wonder and awe as he told me how he is a professor at a Polish university and was interested in our products. He seemed soo trusting. So humble. So sweet. He would amble forward in his little cardigan and fill the world with his own thoughts and ideas. It made me wish I were back in school. Instead I looked at him and smiled. We talked for a bit but unfortunately they can't afford to have our products. I had to turn him away although I pointed him to one of our resellers. It just broke my heart. I was torn. My heart was saddened and for the first time in a long time I felt ashamed for what I do. Materialism doesn't become me. I am fine without the money, the cars, the pretty clothes. I want to be back in my world of idealism. Where the world is still possible. Jerry McGuire has nothing on me I suppose :)

Perhaps my heart can take such brutal beatings as it has endured and keep beating. It still has hope. I still believe. But, I don't know if my soul will ever survive this occupation. Where do I go from here?

In other news, I washed a set of laundry today in my washer/dryer combo... It only took 2.5 hours and a lot of water... These little all in one combos are renowned for their leaking seals and inability to dry anything... And they were right... I have laid all of my intimate apparel out on the table and hung from the rafters to let it air dry. I am just glad I don't live with anyone... they'd be surrounded by lace and silk. More adventures to come... You have to hear my story about my night in an Irish pub in France!

The girl I aspire to be...

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.”
Leo F. Buscaglia quotes

A touch of home...

No major updates or debacles today. Promise. I was a very good Brit. Serious.

However, I do have one major update. Today my shipment of imported goods arrived from the states. A touch of home was brought across the pond with me. I am so excited. My cowboy hat is now perched precariously on the coat hanger in the hallway. My HOWDY sign greets visitors in the entryway. Family pictures adorn the spartan walls. And my most prized possessions are my Texas A&M quilts that my mother handstitched for Christmas. One is lying on my lap keeping me warm (Where were these things when I was dying of frostbite i tell ya?). The other is wonderfully covering the reddish tint of my other couch. It's a gorgeous day here in England. I am finally home.

American Freezes to Death... Hilarity Ensues

With all moves there is a certain adjustment period. It takes some time to get used to your new surroundings. I acknowledge and embrace this. However, one should never take for granted certain elemental aspects like HEAT for example. Upon arriving back in the UK from the US, the temperatures plummeted to subhuman lows. (See previous post re: snow.. yeah.. Texas girls don't do snow well).

One would assume that the flat would be equipped with heat. It is in fact. I have radiators in each room with temperature nozzels on each one. Naturally I assumed that turning these little things to the left of the right would regulate temperature in said rooms. Hmm. After a few hours of still being frozen like a popcicle, I realized that something was drastically wrong. With little icicles dangling from my eyelashes, I started a frantic search all over the flat. Surely there has to be a main control. A thermostat. SOMETHING.

Hours later, I have scoured the flat, searching high and low for this master control. Standing on chairs to look up at the Electrical Fuse closet (having had to find that my first day here after blowing a fuse), I didn't spy anything that looked remotely like a thermostat. I even got on my knees and crawled the length of the flat searching for a gas nozzle only to end up with rug burn on my already tender knees. Starting to really feel like a hopeless Bridget Jones, I tucked the rogue strands of hair behind my ear and carried on. Chanting to myself, "I will not fail... I will not freeze. I will not fail", I started outside. Maybe there is something out there. Picture the headlines now, American gets trapped in garden entry attempting to find Gas thermostat. Hilarity Ensues".

After locating the water meter, the gas meter, and the electricity meter but no nozzle, I started having flashes of London CSI stepping over my frozen body 3 weeks after I died from frostbite. No one knows where I live. No one will ever find my body. "I am going to die a frozen blue popcicle in the dead of winter in a foreign country", I think to myself. Well not really, this is a little exaggerated. But I did consider that I might possibly fail at being a European on my first official day on the job. Seriously Metalchick, get a hold of yourself.

About this time, I step back into my apartment to notice that the heaters are on! Eureka! Something I did obviously had a positive affect. Well obviously it wasn't that simple. I seemed to notice that it was now exactly 7pm. (yes... hours later... hours of me crawling around trying to figure this shit out). But now I had a different objective. I needed to find a timer. I had recalled the fact that the boiler has a little clock looking thing on it. It was ticking away like a little bomb about to explode. This boiler also happens to turn on the gas when I turn on the hot water... Hmm... Yes. You got it. Only 10 hours after realizing I was freezing cold did I notice that there is a timer on the boiler for the heating element. And they call me an engineer. So sad.

Let it Snow!

Well hello everyone. I haven't posted much lately but I wanted to let you know that I have an apartment and INTERNET. Do you have any idea how happy I am to have internet? It's incredible. I love it. My stuff should arrive on Friday.

Yesterday was a peaceful day in Reading. I did some work and went to dinner with a coworker that was in from Switzerland. We went to the London Street Brasserie and a cocktail bar called Sahara. Both were exceptionally good. It was a great night!

This morning I awoke to find that it has snowed overnight. So I took a few shots of the rooftops outside of my flat. While it's not a novelty around here, I am impressed. Yes. I know I am easily impressed. But it's SNOW. This south texas girl doesn't see snow often. (Noted exception of last week in Austin). Perhaps the frigid air is following me? Hmm. I wonder.

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu

It's come to this. My apartment in Austin has been gutted. My entire life in Austin is now in a 10x10 cell block storage area. My car ... history. I made 200 bux on selling my books back... Austin is my past. Europe is my present....

Goodbye Austin! I shall miss your beautiful hills. But mostly I will miss the amazing friends and family I have there. I have a feeling though, I shall be back again someday real soon. Europe better look out for here comes a holy terror that will be unleashed upon the unsuspecting Brits! Europe, lookout cause this Texas gal is coming to town. Weeee.

I'm sitting here at the airport on my final move to Reading. I bid my parents a tearful adieu. My bags are packed. I am off to Europe. FINALLY.


Here I go again on my own
Going down the only road I've ever known

Hell Freezes Over....

I often reply to all those Europeans that want to know what Texas is like with:
Texas, like most places has 4 seasons. They are just unique in those seasons. They are:
- Hot
- Hotter than Hell
- The Devil wouldn't fuckin live here (delete expletive if in professional environment).
- And sometimes... Just sometimes Hell freezes over...

Well today ladies and gentlemen, Hell froze over. And of course wouldn't you know it, I slipped and fell on my knee trying to get some garbage into the garbage bin... :) But it's ICE and SNOW and a veritable winter wonderland here in TX. Oh what joy is this!

Failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough. ~ Og Mandino

Mea Culpa. My sincerest apologies for not keeping you abreast of my fascinating adventure. I have been remiss in updating. I suppose I haven't been posting because my fascinating adventures have been mundane if not frustrating at best.

I moved into my flat. I even have pictures! Unfortunately I can't really furnish it with all these beautiful things like dishes, glasses, even a desk until I get a UK bank account. Oh if it were only that simple. But you see, here in the NOT SO UNITED KINGDOM, you can't get a bank account without confirmation of address. That requires a utility bill. But to turn on your utilities, you have to have a bank account because they require debit autopay. Now. So let's repeat this vicious circle just so I get this ingrained... Utility bills are sent out QUARTERLY. yes. every 3 months. So to actually turn on your utilities for your 3 month bill to come in, you have to have a bank account located in the UK... But to get said bank account, you have to have a utility bill verifying your address in the UK... Did you get that now because I assure you that is the summarized version of days negotiating with electricity, gas, water, internet, phone, and bank services in the UK.. Not to mention this is all either in queue after queue at each location or on the phone... my US based mobile phone since I can't get a UK number until the bank account is set up.

And so thus, I am the recipient of an unexpected challenge and I am persuing it with relish. I am determined that this move will not break me. It will not get me down and I will be successful. It will be fun, challenging, and I will grow incredibly as a woman and an individual. May no challenge get between me and my goals for I will overcome those obstacles.

GWTW had it the best... Scarlett is my hero!
"As God is my witness, as God is my witness, they're not going to lick me! I'm going to live through this, and when it's all over, I'll never be hungry again - no, nor any of my folks! If I have to lie, steal, cheat, or kill, as God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again."