For Example

In my last blog, I would have just posted randomly:

In my house, plants and wigs co-exist peacefully.

(However, it would have been a lie. I have black thumb.)

Things, Stuff

This blog has not been nearly as easy to update as my last blog. I find it very difficult to be inspired enough to say something here. I think I need to reconsider what I want this blog to be. I've had (per my personality) 101 ideas. but I just can't make any of it happen right now.

I am getting married (!!) on Saturday. That is occupying more mental energy than I dreamed it would. I dreamed I would elope, so spending any energy at all in planning a wedding comes as a surprise to me.

I think I had it in my head that this was going to be a "professional" blog when I started it. I've come to accept that this is not how my brain works. I can write freely and frequently when it's fun, but the idea of turning out a polished piece of work is grueling to me. Despite (or possibly because of) the fact that I do it for money all the time.

Peace, out.

Taking Risks

Lately I've been addicted to these teen/young adult fashion blogs. I believe it was my latest issue of Teen Vogue that clued me into the existence of my current favorite, Sea of Shoes. Yes, I'm 34 and I subscribe to Teen Vogue. And your point is?

If the interwebs had been around during my teen years, I would have definitely had a fashion blog. I used to dress in crazy Salvation Army dresses, flea market finds, and my mom's old clothes from the 70s. Then, about ten years ago, when it seemed like the office lifestyle wasn't going to allow me to dress in bag-lady chic, I purged most of my clothing collection.

I miss those days of taking big chances on my outfits. I think it's amazing that these teens have such a public forum to express themselves creatively. I'd love to tap into some of that old energy I had. For everything. I mean, I collaged every item I owned, rearranged the furniture in my room on a weekly basis, dyed my hair red, blonde, you name it. It's easy to take risks when you're young. These days, the biggest risk I take is in my stock portfolio. And I have to tell you, that was only a big risk in retrospect.

Second Drafts

I have been unspeakably, unforgivably lazy about personal writing since I've been in London. A combination of work, travel, visitors, etc. has kept me both busy and blissful, two things that are not conducive to the creative process.

To get myself back into the swing of things, I decided to embark on a pleasant project: journaling these last few months of travel. I needed to jot down my thoughts on living in London, as well as my trips to Paris, Italy, Budapest & Prague before the memories started to fade. So yesterday, I opened a Wordpad file and started typing. I often use Wordpad to make rough notes because I can't stand the formatting corrections that Word makes while I'm writing.

So last night, while I was sleeping, my laptop — which I am now officially at war with — thought it would be fun to restart itself. My evil, Vista-running computer has decided that it needs to update its software about 2-3 times a week. This has led to many lost documents and much swearing.

Whenever I lose a big document like this, I take a deep breath and try and look on the bright side. Being forced to write a second draft often leads to clearer phrasing, a better overall flow. I remember what it is that I meant to say, so I can concentrate instead on how I want to say it.

I think a good writing exercise would be to fake myself out by writing second drafts without looking at my first drafts. So I guess Vista's brokenness is sort of a blessing in disguise.

Things I Can't Wait to Do

At the risk of sounding ungrateful — I mean, I did just return from an incredible weekend in Tuscany to an apartment in London, with trips to Prague, Budapest, and Paris lined up for the next month — what was my point again? Oh right, here are the things I cannot wait to do when I return to SF.

1. See all my friends, preferably at a venue featuring karaoke
2. Hit up Thai House Express weekly, if not daily
3. Get a pedi (pedis cost roughly 50 GBP in London, and open-toed shoes are out of the question anyway)
4. Try out some Rock & Republic eye liner
5. Stock the fridge/freezer with: Molinari hot salami, Krinos tarama, Bellwether Farms yogurt, wontons from Shanghai in Oakland Chinatown
6. Have an amazing night's sleep in our own bed
7. Set up my pole again
8. Restart my Netflix deliveries so I can catch up on Mad Men
9. Book my next trip out of the country :)

Book Addict

Moving to London for three months (during the bulky-clothing winter months, no less), forced me to set some serious packing priorities. Mistakes were made. I packed four pairs of shoes but no flip-flops (this needs to be remedied before my four day Italian excursion, since I have acute germaphobia and refuse to use any hotel shower — no matter how clean or fancy — in bare feet).

I also somehow thought I was going to survive the trip with only two books: No Logo and Middlesex. This was vastly misguided. I only managed to last a grand total of five days before I caved and bought How to Lose Friends and Alienate People and the new Bill Bryson. Those complete, I have now dropped all pretense of controlling myself and just went on a book-buying binge on Amazon.co.uk. By the time I move back to S.F., I'll need an entire suitcase for my new library.

Second Impressions

I try and keep an open mind at all times. Still, it came as a bit of a shock to me today when I found SF-level coffee and Shanghai-level Chinese food in London in the same day.

I should add that these are my holy grail items in any city I visit. I would have been perfectly satisfied with a good Italian restaurant and a nice cheese shop, but this was like going to the Salvation Army and finding a pristine designer purse: Jackpot!

The reason I'd truly given up hope is that our foodie friends — who certainly know both their coffee and their Chinese food — have been incredibly helpful and generous about showing us all of their favorite places. They took us to perfectly passable Szechuan at trendy Bar Shu, and pointed me to serviceable but bitter cappuccino at the highly touted Monmouth. So I'd pretty much given up on finding anything great in either of those departments during my stay here.

Today, they really delivered the goods though. I guess it's all the sweeter for being unexpected.

It is, of course, not entirely out of the question that two and a half weeks in London have simply lowered my standards immeasurably.

The London Diet

Day 7 of the London diet is on. That's the diet where you can't afford to eat, and when you do, the food isn't very good.

Turns out the rumors of the London food renaissance have been greatly exaggerated. I don't want to pass judgment too quickly, since I'm sure there are outstanding restaurants at the upper end. Still...paying $50 for an indifferent Indian meal for two is a bit disheartening.

So I've experienced a sensation that is entirely new to me. I find myself thinking: "Oh God, is it time to eat? Again?" Which is never a feeling I have in San Francisco, NY or L.A., where my thoughts are usually closer to: "Ooooh, where should we eat tonight?" or "Can I possibly cram any more food into my overstuffed belly?"

Since I am not the kind of person who can live without good food for three months (make that three days), I have started to cook nearly all of our meals. Luckily, the price of groceries here is roughly comparable to the U.S. It's kind of odd cooking over here. All of the measurements are different, and I went to four different grocery stores in an unsuccessful attempt to find slivered almonds. Slivered almonds anyone? If you're visiting me, that would be a great thing to bring.

Meanwhile, you can find various exotica like baby fennel and sliced venison at even your most bog standard chain supermarkets. It's like a foreign country here or something.

Now That's What I'm Talking About

Exactly a year ago to the day, I quit my solid job at Yahoo! to aim for something freer. I wanted to take risks and try a ton of things out, whether it be pole dancing classes or living on my own (for the first time ever!). In the last year, I've become addicted to the freelance lifestyle, starting with the fact that my daily commute consists of a half-awake stumble from my bed to the den.

Tomorrow, I head to London for three months (and get to keep my current writing gig), which is pretty much the best way I could have expected this year to end. I jumped into this whole freelance thing without fear, despite the fact that near the beginning, two whole months went by without a single gig. And the way things are headed in the economy, I'm sure that won't be the last time I wonder where my next paycheck is coming from. Still, the money has managed to work out roughly even, and the trade-off is incredible, unbelievable amounts of freedom.

It reminds me of the cheesy inspirational line: what would you do if you knew you could not fail?

I think leaving the country for three months with one of my favorite people is a pretty good start.

I Heart Shoes

This is what love looks like.