across the pond

Just got back from a lovely four-day weekend which saw me in “the big smoke” for Thursday and Friday. It was lovely lovely lovely. I just love that city!

In case you’re confused because you assumed I live in London, I don’t. I actually live in the midlands in a city that is about an hour and a half train ride north of London. You might also be wondering why I would be so excited to make it there when it is in fact quite close (I used to drive to Phoenix for the day and that’s over two hours). The answer is simple –- it’s so damn expensive! The cheapest price I could find was £35 roundtrip, and that meant getting the 10:30pm train home the next night. That’s $70! So it’s just not worth it unless you have a good reason. And a good reason I did have. My good friend Rob from Tucson was in town visiting for the week. He’s been to London many, many times, so he’s a good person to seemlessly slip through the city with. He also has good (and PRICEY) tastes in food, so definitely another plus :)

Thursday I had a “lie-in” which was much needed… even though it was only a three day week… ok, that makes me sound pathetic. Anyway, headed down on the 12:30 train which was a direct shot, had some sandwiches, vino and peanuts, listened to music and watched the English country side roll by. We got to St. Pancreas (what an incredible station… it never ceases to amaze me), hopped on the tube and made it to Hotel 82 in Marylebone. It was a decent area, and the hotel was “cozy” but clean and bright.

The afternoon we spent shopping…. it’s London! I have to! Although, as soon as we got down there I started to regret my decision. We went to Oxford Circus which is where all the big name stores are (H&M, Topshop, Miss Selfridge’s, etc.) and it was PACKED… and I hate crowds (I get claustrophobic). Ah, sale signs. Yes, it all makes sense now. So the crowds sucked on this particular Thursday, first sale day… but the sales rocked. I got tons of stuff for nothing (and by “nothing” I mean, “comparable to U.S. prices”). For those of you heading that way, I recommend checking out the Topshop there. I’m not normally a fan, but this store is incredible. I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a scaled down department store because it had other brands, but it had at least two floors of topshop, one of shoes, one of dresses and an area with vintage clothes that were WAY more expensive than the other stuff. It’s on Oxford street. Right, moving on.

Let’s talk food ;) Thursday night we went out to the super swanky Asia de Cuba. It looked promising, albeit slightly intimidating. The hotel it’s in doesn’t have a name on the outside, and there are security guys standing outside dressed in all black with ear pieces and clipboards. Yikes. I was expecting this place to be really dressy, but like all high end restaurants I’ve frequented lately, there seems to be a casual wave sweeping the wardrobes of wealthy patrons (i.e. jeans and dressy shirts). The staff was pretty nice, but had a few airs and graces about them. The food was so so. It was good, but not for the price and not for marketing itself as upscale. It was Asian and Cuban inspired food, and everything looked good on the menu, but fell kind of flat when it came to the plates. My favorite dish was the Singapore noodles which we ordered as a side and you can get anywhere. The other dish I enjoyed was the baileys brownie superdecadentsuicidethingie and my martini which had lots of ingredients including mango, vodka and a hint of chili. If nothing else they served us BIG portions and I left fully stuffed. So it was good, but I prefer Nobu, Roka and Eight Over Eight (all Asian, all I’ve been to on other occasions). Speaking of Roka, one just opened up in Scottsdale so if you’re from the old pueblo and have a hankering for delicious Japanese food, and the bank account to support it, definitely go check it out. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

Afterwards we were going to go dancing (Andrew and I), but it was raining. Figures. I really just wanted to walk around Soho and hop into places that looked intriguing. Instead, we talked to the guy at the front about a bar to go to and asked us if we had tried the hotel bar yet which we hadn’t. “Let me see what I can do,” he said and hopped inside. He came back out and said, “He’ll let you in, he owes me a favor.” Good grief. So at the bar entrance we were nodded in by a big security guard outfitted the same as the guys out front. We sat at a tiny table, had a couple drinks in a VERY noisy, bright room and left. Wow. There was nothing special about this bar whatsoever. It’s so pretentious, yet has nothing to be pretentious about! There were only a handful of people in there to begin with, and it was just a long narrow room that was badly decorated. That place needs to get over itself. After that Andrew and I headed down the street to the International bar which was a head and shoulders above the one we had just left, and there was no attitude at this place. The night was rounded out by me wandering around Soho in my little cocktail dress in the cold rain looking for a cab.

The next day was spent shopping (only for some comfy shoes, I swear!) and walking, walking, walking. We went through Soho, the West End, Hyde Park (and naturally got stuck in the POURING rain there) and Covent Garden where we sipped a couple of English Ales and watched the marginally amusing performances of street artists. For lunch we ate at Maoz which I highly recommend for the health and money conscious. As a pre-dinner drink we met up with Rob and headed to the Soho hotel bar which is so lovely, and they make some mean martinis (and gimlets for the boys). For dinner we had a more low key dining experience at one of my favorite restaurants in the UK: Itsu (I also love Yo Sushi which is similar). I just love the conveyor belt that goes around, all those little plates of deliciousness just waiting to be plucked off and enjoyed. After that we walked down Charlotte street which has got to be one of my favorite streets in London. It has so many good restaurants and bars and the atmosphere just sort of buzzes. It also feels hidden, kind of tucked away from the madness of Soho. It was here that we stumbled upon a tequila bar (!) and had to go in for some good ol’ southwestern delights. We tried the Ocho reposado which I’d never had, but tasted mighty fine. Definitely one to return to again when the funds allow

After that it was back to the midlands for these weary travelers. The rest of the weekend was spent at a bbq, tending the veggies (they’re getting so huge!) and just vegging out ourselves. I should take four-day weekends more often ;)

I got a new bike! That’s right, it’s about time. As most of you know, I have two bikes back in AZ, Penny and Ladybird. I miss them quite a bit, but at least it’s good to know that my twinnie has been tooling around on my three speed and getting good use out of it (my roadster is too special to let others ride :-P). So this is my newest edition to the ever-growing family. This, my friends, is Pimms.

The name Pimms comes from the traditional English summer drink. I still haven’t had one, but I’m determined to try it some day while sitting outside at a cute pub willing the afternoon away. From what I understand, Pimms is supposed to be the Brits “sangria.” And I love me some sangria! But anyway, I just thought the name was cute, so there you have it

As for how it rides? Beautifully. Thanks to Andrew for outfitting it with new tires, new handlebars, new pedals and adjusting all the bits and bolts. It’s perfect! I took it out this past weekend for a ride down the canal and through a nature reserve. It was beautiful. We rode down the water, had a drink at a pub (we were forced in do to the rain and scary-looking clouds), had lunch outside by the river, ate ice creams by the lake, drank wine from the bottle in an old, abandoned factory and rode rode rode to our hearts’ content. It was a perfect afternoon. Here are some pictures. Enjoy!

Bike paths along the canal and through a nature reserve.

I’ve been thinking a lot about sustainable living lately. Not only because of the constant barrage of news stories pointing to the food crisis and rising prices, but also because it seems to be a more popular thing over here in England. First of all, every village, town and city has public land used as allotments for families with no yard to grow vegetables on. These allotments are everywhere, and are incredibly affordable for people to rent once they obtain one. I’m not sure how easy it is to get one, but I was watching a cooking show the other day where the cook said that if a group of six people approach the council with the request for land to grow crops on, then they are obliged to grant that request. Pretty cool I think.

Image: this is an allotment. It’s really nice though… most are a little more ramshackle than this, that I’ve seen

There are also two popular television chefs who create all their meals from homegrown goods. The first is Jamie Oliver who has also been an advocate for healthier food options in UK schools. He cooks beautiful looking food using mostly the ingredients from his substantial vegetable garden… and he makes it look incredibly easy. The other chef is Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall who has a house and farm where he not only grows his own veggies but raises animals as well to use in his meals. Even the very famous Gordon Ramsay fishes, catches and kills his own meat on his show “the F word.” There is this fascination with getting back to our roots, this sort of primitive, back-to-basics movement which is pretty exciting.

I’ve always (well, for some time at least) been an advocate of organic, local produce. There are many reasons for this, most notably the incredibly high carbon emissions expelled by producing and shipping food from overseas, and also because of the inhumane treatment of animals that grow up in these mass-producing slaughter houses. And if it’s true that you are what you eat, why would you want to put all that artificially fed, fearful, adrenaline-filled meat in your belly?

So with all that being said, I am SO excited to finally, for the first time in my life, be growing my very own vegetable patch and full greenhouse (with the very capable help of Andrew). Here are all the things currently growing en el jardín de lindsaybelle: courgettes (aka zucchini), cabbage, carrots, cucumbers, spinach, spring onions, tomatoes, brussels sprouts, broad beans, bell peppers, hot peppers, aubergines (aka eggplant) and jalepenos. I don’t think I’ve left anything out….

Image: my veggie patch! Not much yet, but soon little one, soon.

Image: three of my lovely, HUGE tomato plants… and these are the weak ones!

So there you have it! Growing veggies is not that hard… I mean if I can do it (and I used to have a black thumb… I mean, who else can kill a cactus?!) then certainly there’s hope for the rest of humanity. Here’s to delicious veggies and sustainable living!

**update** this related article was published today in the NYtimes… scary.

Whilst spending a lazy afternoon on the couch flipping through the channels aimlessly, I came across a show that, with it’s glitzy outfits and strange accents, caught my eye. It was Eurovision. I was instantly hooked.

I remembered learning about Eurovision a little bit during a European political science class many years ago (jeez, does that make me sound old). What I remembered was that it started shortly after the EU formed and was a means of uniting the countries through the power of music. What happens is each country has a band or singer that performs and then is voted on by the other countries. Which ever country gets the most points wins, kind of like American Idol, except on an international level.

Although after watching it for even a few minutes I realized it is NOTHING like American Idol, and is actually somewhat of a joke.

First off, the music is AWFUL! It’s all really bad pop music that you might expect to find in a discoteque in some Russian satellite state. It’s really showy–a sort of vegas-style, over-the-top kind of performance. It’s completely manufactured pop with nothing authentic or original to show for it. It’s just really bad music, and it pained me to watch even the snippets of replay. If you don’t believe me, just watch the video below of the winners of this year’s Eurovision: Russia.

The other reason I consider this show a total scam is that the voting doesn’t have anything to do with the actual competition, but everything to do with political alliances and geographical proximity. This is not my opinion, it’s a widely known fact. Even the UK commentator kept making snarky comments about who each country would vote for. For example, whenever a country like Estonia or Belarus would give all their points to Russia he’d say, “well that was a good guess” or “hm, what a surprise.” He couldn’t hide the jaded, cynical tone if he tried. Even though he was being humorous, you could tell that he was completely fed up with this show. And no wonder, the UK ended up last with 14 points (Russia, by contrast, won with 272 points). But either way, even I was getting annoyed. What is the point? The show has nothing to do with music, so why even pretend? Why masquerade as this big unifying, musical extravaganza when it all just boils down to politics? And who are these poor saps chosen to sing who actually believe their talent is what has earned them all these points and filled them with a sense of patriotism and national pride? I just don’t get it.

I sold my horse this week. What a sad, sad day. For those of you who know me and had the privilege of meeting Apollo (aka the hippo), you know how incredibly special he was and close to my heart.

I bought Apollo back in 1999 when I was just 15. Even back then I was in total awe of this horse. He’s so huge (nearly 18hh) and magnificent and beautiful and I couldn’t even believe how incredibly fortunate I was to have him. At the time he had just been a dressage horse and had learned to jump a couple of months prior to me buying him. He didn’t even have a lead change, but that didn’t matter. He picked things up so quickly that within a couple of months we were competing and winning at big horse shows across the U.S. And within two years we had qualified and competed in all the major medal finals. (He even got to fly in a plane from California to Pennsylvania for one of the shows!).

After graduating from high school I was no longer able to compete due to insufficient funds, but I still had my hippo and rode him every day. The last few years have been trying… I never realized how expensive owning a horse was until I had to be self-supporting. I cared more about Apollo than I did about myself. While I was eating spinach and popcorn for dinner many nights, Apollo was enjoying good meals and a stable that cost more than my rent. And let’s not even start on all the vet bills….

Even with all the expenses, sinking in debt and a constant worry and self-doubt about my ability to really care for such an enormous, magnificent animal, I can honestly say that owning him has made me incredibly happy and I’ve gleaned so much from him. There was even a time when I felt as though he saved my life even though he wasn’t physically present. It was during an MRI at a very sick and stressful time in my life. I had a huge panic attack, probably the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life, and the only thing that brought me down and helped me to center myself again was imagining his hair, all his little markings, hugging him and breathing in his smell.

So now this animal I love more than anything in the world is no longer mine. This is because of my decision to come to England, and also because paying for him and giving him the time he needs at this point in my life is just no longer feasible. Why does “growing up” require such huge sacrifices? This is the first time in my life that I can remember not owning or riding a horse. This is the end of an era.

So I’m a little down at the moment. But I can’t be too sad because I have found him the best possible home I ever could have imagined. He’s with my old trainer (that I rode with back in my Iowa days: 10+ years ago) in Virginia and belongs to a girl my age who absolutely adores him. He’s got a barn full of great people and horses, huge grass pastures and the best possible care an older horse can get. I also got a great price for him that has helped me pay off my debts and is my meal ticket for the next several months here in England.

I will always love my hippo, the guy who saw me through some seriously tough times and really amazing experiences. I will also miss him terribly. This is my fond farewell to a friend.

I’ve now been back in the states for a couple of weeks to regroup, chill out and visit with everyone. It’s a bit different this time around though. I’ve been staying at my Mom’s house because my sister (finally) got a roommate, thus reducing me to either couch-surfing (which I end up doing on the weekends anyway) or staying in my old room from high school. Going back to my old house by the university and seeing my room–that was my sanctuary for over four critical years of my life–now being occupied by a stranger has made me distinctly aware of my living situation, and the fact that I am very much “homeless.” Obviously I have places to stay, but living in temporary spaces indefinitely, with no retreat that is my own haven, has become a strange feeling. I can’t help feeling slightly displaced, like a drifter. It’s a romantic notion (which I’m awfully fond of, being a fan of Bukowski and all), and I’m not upset, not happy, just sort of aware of it all. It’s made me realize that we’re much more mobile as human beings then we realize. And while yes, it is nice to have some stability and a place to call home, it is also incredibly freeing to be able to move seamlessly from one place to the next. It’s nice to not be bogged down by material things. Everything I own at this point in time fits into my suitcase. Everything I own is out of necessity––I’m living a very bare-bones kinds of life for the first time ever. The other thing I’ve discovered is the capacity of the human heart to accomodate those in need. Everywhere I go there are people willing to help me out, put me up, and do so in a selfless way without any motives or grudges. That’s a really special thing that I’ve experienced and greatly needed in my life. I’ve become so disenchanted with people and society over the past several months that even just a little kindness is hugely appreciated.

Even though I’m “homeless” because I don’t have a place to call my own, I still see myself as having two homes. Tucson and England. I have very special people in both places, different activities and lifestyles that I love equally. Unfortunately this is also a double-edged sword. Having two homes puts me in a perpetual states of missing someone. It tears me apart inside any time I leave one place for the other. It is oh so bittersweet. It is so hard to live completely in the moment, to give myself completely to the time, place and people I am with.

While this time has been trying, it has also been an amazing adventure. If there was ever a time to live this type of gypsy lifestyle, it would be now. It’s so amazing to get out there, shake up the routine and realize that regardless of the living situation, it is possible to still create a “home” for yourself. Besides, I have plenty of time to hunker down, create my own little cocoon and start collecting, but for now, I’m just not interested in such a stationary life.

ah blog. hello friend. it’s been a while, how are you? bored? cold? me too.

it’s been a while, and i apologize to those who come here hoping for an update on my newly acquired british life and are instead left with old, rambly posts that leave you jilted and unsatisfied. i could blame my recent drama that closely mimics any british soap, or blame my ‘homelessness’…. but the truth is i’ve been uninspired.

it’s not that i don’t have things to write about. i could talk about how i indulged my inner nerdiness with a trip to stratford-upon-avon (the birthplace of shakespeare), experienced my first english weddings full of booze and horrible music, have become adept at train travel and big city navigation (namely london), turned another year older (sigh), developed an addiction to scones with clotted cream and jam, got sick and missed a week of work, experienced socialized medicine (yikes), and most importantly…. the recent, slow realization that spring and summer don’t actually exist in england. that’s right. the english live in this self-perpetuated lie that summer is nice, but really it’s just a collective delusion and i’m convinced i’m going to be cold forever. good thing i’m going to visit texas and arizona soon. i need me some sunshine.

so yeah…. haven’t been writing. perhaps it’s because after my earthquake post i just didn’t feel like anything was worthy enough. i mean, you have to admit that that’s pretty exciting. besides that, i’m temporarily living in leicester which is an hour and a half commute to the office (car, train, walk) which means i’m away from ‘home’ from 7:30am until 6:45pm. at that time i usually just want to crawl onto the couch, eat some hula hoops and watch all my favorite, awfully delicious soaps. or run, which i’ve started up again, but i prefer the former ;)

i shall leave you all with a picture of the deliciousness that is cream teas and warm scones with clotted cream and jam……. oh mmmm now i want some.

one last note (disclaimer if you will): i have decided not to use proper capitalization not do to laziness, but more as a way to differentiate what i do at work and what i do in my spare time. as an editor, my days consist of proper capitalization, grammar, punctuation, etc. and so now i’m taking a stand against it. sorry if you find it offensive. no wait, i’m not sorry! if you find it offensive then don’t read this blog. simple as that. okay, cheers!

I apologize for that being a bit late. I also apologize for the recent time lapse in entries. I just recently moved out of my flat and have been living as a homeless gypsy. I’m looking into new places in the town I work in so that I won’t have to rely on someone driving me… Hopefully I’ll be settled into a place by the first. I’ll keep you updated.

Anyway… It appears winter has returned. This weekend saw snow across most of England and it was miserable. Here is a picture of me from Saturday when I was heading to a football match with my friend.

It was cold. I don’t know if you can tell ;) WHERE IS SPRING?!

Okay, I’m out. Hope you all had a good Easter and ate lots of chocolate eggs!

Apparently yes, it does. England, you have outdone yourself. You are not as tame as I proclaimed you to be. You’ve got some tricks up your sleeve yet.

So yeah, I woke up to a roaring, thumping sound and my entire flat was shaking and rattling. It lasted ten seconds apparently. It kind of completely freaked me out, not gonna lie. Although I didn’t realize it was a quake until my friends from across the UK started texting me. I just thought the end was near (if you know me, you know this is a frequent topic of conversation) and the sky was falling in .

I’m okay, thanks ;op

You can read about it more here.

Cheers!

So very glad to finally have arrived at the weekend. It’s been a trying week. Thursday was the best. And by best I mean worst. And by worst I mean it was of comical proportions. At one point during the day I thought, “It can’t really get any worse, right?” Well worse it did. And as I stared into the public toilet at my newly purchased items bobbing about, I wanted to cry but had to chuckle. I realized that this will be one of those days that’s I will look back on, share, laugh and quickly change the subject.

Anyway, the week is over and hopefully the coming week will be better. Who knows?

This is a bike lane in Leicester. It is on the sidewalk for part of it, and then ends and doesn’t appear to continue in either direction. I don’t get it.