fun with maps

UPDATED! I finally figured out how to resize the image (and I had forgotten a state)! Yay for me! (Thanks Mike!)

totally copying john on this one...

only counting states in which i have slept...i'm almost halfway there!



create your own visited states map

merry christmas to me!

deadPod has been replaced! I can't wait to pick up nano when I get to Houston!

Buying the red one means I'm friends with Bono now, I think. So nobody tell him it just happened to be my favorite color option.

deadpod

I dropped my iPod last night getting off the tube. It was unprotected (despite the fact that I have a perfectly good shock-absorbing ipod carrier at home) and really took a major ding to the casing. The screen looked fine, but no amount of button-pushing seemed to bring it out of the seizure I think it was having. I could hear all sorts of things happening inside my little music machine, which persisted for a long time.

When I finally looked at it again right before going to bed, it had switched itself off. Cautiously optimistic, I attempted to turn it back on, and when it tried to sputter to life (with much noise and complaint), this picture appeared on the screen.

I am pretty confident that means my ipod is now a deadpod. May he rest in peace.

i've been outed

Somebody at work Googled me and now they know I have a blog. "They" likely only means a particular pair of wind-ups to whom I affectionately refer as Statler and Waldorf.

Regardless, it's still a bit unsettling.

sad

A friend who attends All Souls just told me that John Stott won't be preaching this Sunday. He's been ill recently, and apparently not yet feeling well enough to deliver a sermon. I'm so sad! Sad because he's been ill and because I've been looking forward to this Sunday for a LONG time.

john stott

A friend recently sent me this article on John Stott, one of my heroes of the Christian faith.

For an op-ed columnist for the the New York Times, I'm not all that impressed with his overall piece, but I love the respect he has, even as a Jew, for my beloved teacher.

Stott rarely preaches these days, but I get to hear him at All Souls (where he was Rector for several years and is now Rector Emeritus, in case you didn't read those articles) next weekend! I have been looking forward to it for 3 months.

I'm even more excited about that than about my last post.

beaming

God is so gracious. For a girl He's brought from having a self-esteem level lower than the deepest layer of pre-historic frog remains under the Panama Canal...the two totally fabulous and unsolicited compliments I've received this week have been such a joy to thankfully receive without all the old "yeah, but..." tapes that used to play in my head.


COMPLIMENT ONE. IM conversation (paraphrased and reported from memory rather than a direct cut/paste quote) with one of my favorite boys in all the world...

boy: did you get my email?
me: no, what did it say?
boy: i usually read your blog from google, but a couple weeks ago, i read it directly from your site.
boy: your new picture - wow - so cute
me: aww...shucks
boy: i mean, i've always thought you were cute
boy: and i love the picture you have on IM
boy: but, wow
me: i'm blushing
me: you're SO good for my ego!

COMPLIMENT TWO. Email from my mom, who as any mom would, thinks i'm beauty queen material, so this was no surprise to her (direct quote, although names have been changed to protect the innocent)...

"BTW, yesterday as one of our auditors named Johnny Depp who works for Carribbean Consulting Pirates was leaving for the day stopped to sign out and saw your picture on my desktop, said, "family? I said "my daughter" then he said "pretty girl". He is single and really good looking, all the girls here think he is "HOT", just thought I'd tell ya."



I got the email and had the IM conversation within 2 hours of each other. I'm still beaming. Seriously. And the best part is that I actually BELIEVE them both! How fun is that!!

grumble

for the record:

1. yesterday was such a frustrating day at work that if i thought it would help i would have cried, and
2. determined not to miss session with my trainer due to work drama, i decided i would go work out and then come back to the office, so
3. when i got to the gym, I begged my trainer to make it "leg day" so i could box for my cardio intervals (i never ASK for it to be leg day), and
4. we boxed AND she brought out the leg pad so i could try and knock her over with some roundhouse kicks as well, and
5. I tried to beat the pulp out of her, and even though she managed to stay upright i still managed to get out a LOT of my frustration, so
6. even though I came back to the office and was here until 9:45, I felt better, but
7. despite having exhausted myself at work and the gym, I couldn’t sleep last night, so
8. I’m working on about 4 hours of sleep, and
9. despite the fact that I was at the station well on time for the 7:00 train, the notice boards said everything was running about 7 minutes late, so I ran upstairs to get a desperately needed latte, but
10. when I was casually coming back down the stairs, i heard the platform announcer say "...woking..." and saw the doors on MY TRAIN closing and the train started pulling away just as I stepped onto the platform (because the train in front was so late they bumped my train in front of it, my train arrived and was on it's way out of the station, all in the 3 minutes - literally, I’ve timed it - I was gone to get the blasted caffeine), so
11. I had to sit on the platform like a lump, but since I was already "late", i decided to take another train that requires me to switch trains halfway to woking, which I’ve never taken before (but meant waiting for my next train to stop at wimbledon station for 12 minutes instead of 30) and still got to the office before 8:00, and now
12. I’m on my fourth cup of coffee and I’m going to be a bouncing-off-the-walls maniac before the day is over just to keep myself awake, and
13. despite the fact that i'm pre-tired for tomorrow, I have PROMISED myself I’m going to meet up with some friends i haven't seen in a month tonight, and
14. i will only have myself to blame tomorrow.

judging england

I was invited to a Thanksgiving dinner in London, hosted by two of my favorite people in this country. As the sole representative for the USA, I was asked to say grace. I think it was the first time ever I've pre-written a prayer, but I've seen people do it before, so I decided it still counts and is actually a cool thing to do.

After the meal and pudding (read: dessert) were served, there was a quiz. I can't describe the amount of pressure I was feeling for our table to win, but imagined it would be a relatively easy road to victory, because honestly...how much does anyone in England know about Thanksgiving? Turns out, the quiz master Googled for days to find the most obscure and random facts about Thanksgiving he could.

After the 10 questions were given, we were told there was a BONUS round. Oh, GOODIE! I LOVE bonus round!! THEN, the quiz master pulled me out of my team's table because I was to be the JUDGE of the bonus round. EVEN BETTER!!

Each team had to send a representative to the front of the room to compete (somehow my team got overlooked...still a bit of a quandary there).

The bonus round consisted of a competition to mimic my accent - which quickly became rather deep east-Texan (because why not?). After 2 rounds and a "speak-off", I declared the winner: a scottish man. Before you roll your eyes, you should note that (a)he lived in Texas for 3 years and (b)he's married and retired. Just, you know, for the record.

Even without a rep in the bonus round, my team won by a land slide. No, it wasn't rigged...

providence

some days you come easy
some days you don't
but even on the hard days
i know what i know.

faith is not a possession but engagement
hope is not a wish but faith

the feelings count but are not the sum
the logic too but not alone

the other would have me disregard what the One has shown
but as my thankful heart sighs my spirit says no.

1 comments

So...we've talked about the "1 comments" thing before.

And...I've switched to the beta version of blogger - presumably the testing platform for new and improved features.

But...I just noticed something odd in my "manage your posts" view.

Compare the "public view" (see this week's entry below - "happy week: day 3")...

...to my "manage posts" view:



Does anyone see an inconsistency here? I think the beta team has missed a much needed improvement. Tear.

too much chocolate?

There was a time when I thought the phrase "too much chocolate" was an oxymoron. Those days are over.

A small group of people in my office have formed a loosely organized ritual of a very tiny dosage of high-end chocolate 3 or 4 times a week at tea time...Cadbury Dairy Milk consumers not allowed (think milk chocolate Hershey bar).

We affectionately refer to ourselves as "chocolate snob club".

We all bring in new and different types of chocolates or chocolate bars in varying degrees of darkness. This club is about quality and palette formation, not about massive consumption of sugary sweets. Example: we recently spent 2 weeks working through a box of Lindt dark chocolate orange ultra-thins (and they DO mean ultra-thin). Those were wonderful afternoons.

So far, Lindt and Green & Black seem to be our favorite brands.

A few weeks ago, I spotted some Lindt bars at Harrods. They were selling 70%, 85% and 99% cocoa bars. Well, being the true chocolate snob that I am, I skipped right over the 70% bars and went for the kill on the 85% and 99% bars.

We spent the last week working our way through the 85% bar, which was rough, I have to admit...the chocolate was so dark and bitter that I could only manage to work my way through 1/2 of a 1" x 1" square at tea time. To my surprise, by the end of the week I found I was starting to enjoy it. So, naturally, I was a bit nervous about the next step...but assumed my palette would continue to develop.

Today, we opened the 99% cocoa bar. It was awful. It tastes like cooked mud. It's not even bitter...it's just...cake-y, sugarless blackness.

We have now decided that the 99% Lindt bar will be the club initiation. If you can choke down a square of that stuff...you're in.

happy week: day 5

Yes, I know I missed a day last week, but for very good reason, which happens to be the TOPIC for day 5. It's Paris. I was in Paris on Friday.

Paris makes me happy. For clarity...visiting Paris makes me happy (read: I have no desire to live there or anywhere in France ever again, but I'm happy to visit anytime).

It makes me happy to be able to communicate with the "natives" in their own language. What's even better...everywhere we went, almost without exception, I spoke French with everyone we had to deal with...and NOBODY corrected my French. This is an amazing fact, and one that makes me very happy - because, like the English, the French aren't hesitant to correct you when you're wrong. I like that, because I WANT to be corrected. My french host mom did me such a great service by relentlessly correcting me on my pronunciation and spoken grammar when I lived there. Bless her.

I never thought I'd be on the road to being tri-lingual! Apparently, I can speak English, French and American pretty well!

happy week: day 4

I love working in a "town center" environment. My office building is literally connected to one of the four main corners of Woking Town Square. What this means is that I can pop out for lunch and accomplish all of the following...

• walk to the mall
• browse through the clothes, handbags and shoes at TK Maxx (yes...TK, not TJ)
• try on a few pair of jeans and 2 pair of shoes
• buy the stuff I fell in love with
• head upstairs and a few doors down to one of my favorite shoe stores and browse around for anything I can't live without
• head up another flight of stairs and across the mall to Claire's (yes, I know I'm not 14, but with a little patience you can find a few age-appropriate accessories in there)
• browse around to find the best selections on the "3 for the price of 2" selection (which is of course located all over the store) and make a purchase
• exit the mall and walk to another shopping center nearby
• find a place for today's sandwich and stand in a decent queue before purchasing
• walk back to the office

...all in just 57 short minutes.

happy week: day 3

As requested, today's little bit of happiness is a bit of explanation about another item on Monday's list: "men who break into song at the very sight of me".

To be honest, there's only one many I know who currently breaks into song when he sees me. I see him about once a month on the north bank of the Thames, under Waterloo Bridge. He's homeless...and I get to chat with him while I'm there with a group of people serving lunch. Lately I seem to be getting "chocolate biscuit duty", which means that instead of standing behind a table for 2 hours serving tea and coffee, I get to carry around a bag of chocolates (usually Kit Kats...mmm, yummy!) and hand them out and chat to people - all in an effort to create relationship, since we tend to see a lot of the same people every week.

Every time this particular gentleman spots me drawing near, he launches into "Only You", which I think is rather nice. After a few bars, we usually chat about the car and bicycle repair garage he's trying to get set up, and various stories from his life that I can't always understand, but he seems to enjoy sharing.

It makes me happy just being there, but being serenaded really is a cherry-on-top deal.

happy week: day 2

...a little more about yesterday's list...

Everything on yesterday's list represents a significant happy thing. For example, it may seem a small thing, but getting a smile from a Londoner during peak commuting time is actually pretty noteworthy.

When it's a woman (which, to be honest, has been rare), I assume it's because she's just a friendly person - good with strangers, I mean.

When it's a man (which is more often the case) I assume it means he thinks I'm cute. What? A girl can dream!

It's even more fun to exchange repeated glances and grins with someone on the tube, and then happen to get off at the same stop he does...and instead of doing what I normally do on the escalator (which is stand, on the right, of course), I skip up the left side of the steps hot on the tail of Mr. Cutie-Pie, grinning to myself about how silly it is to think that we'll get to the turnstile at the station exit and he'll turn to me and finally actually SAY something.

It's REALLY fun to realize halfway up the escalator that your legs are now burning because this is an especially long escalator, but you've shot yourself in the foot by choosing left early on...because the right side is chock-a-block with people and nowhere to squeeze in, so you've essentially committed yourself to walk (it's definitely no longer a skip by the time you get to the top) all the way up. How anticlimactic it is when you lose sight of Mr Cutie-Pie right after coming through the turnstiles and heading for the exit.

Regardless...the silliness of being a girl makes me happy. If it's not fun, why bother?

happy week: day 1

After all the drama I've been on about in the last couple of weeks, I thought it would be nice (for me and for you) to devote an entire week to happy things.

Today, I present a list of things that have made me happy in the last several days:

• Gigantic fireworks shows
• Decent public transport*
• Getting a smile from a fellow commuter that you see daily
• People who smile to themselves on the tube with their eyes closed
• New friends that feel like old friends
• Men that break into song at the very sight of me
• Accents, accents everywhere
• Being from Texas, which, to be honest, makes me happy every day

*It's amazing how stress-free and enjoyable commuting can be when you don't have to pay attention to anything but where to get off the bus/train/tube.

i'm a free bird!

It only took 40 minutes and 6 transfers (between 2 different departments) to get to the right person today to cancel my broadband service with BT today.

I think this little episode in BT's history would do well as a case study for a course on customer service in some business course.

today's total: over 2 hours

for a brief few minutes, i thought everything was going my way when the Customer Options lady finally came back and said "ok...i'm going to transfer you now so they can set up an appointment", but that's when things went downhill quickly. i didn't realize she was sending me to the Incompentents, so when she started in on her "can you tell me what lights are showing on your router?" routine and i tried to shut her down, everything fell apart. so, after sitting on hold while Customer Options lady was (supposedly) explaining my situation and about 20 more minutes trying to reason with the Incompetents, it ended up taking 1 hour and 25 minutes to find out BT flat out REFUSE to send a technician to my flat.

additionally, since the only other acceptable outcome today was to cancel the service, i've got to call back the Customer Options people. yeah, you read it right...i have to call them back, because the Incompetents can't transfer me back to customer service. these people WORK FOR THE PHONE COMPANY and they can't transfer a call?

after spending 1 hour and 1 minute while the phone rang endlessly, i have had to hang up because i have to leave the office to make it to a post-work appointment. so i still haven't been able to accomplish the day's objective.

i am so angry i'm not even sure i can form complete sentences. it makes me want to cry. if you read this and you are a praying person...please pray for the people who work for BT and for my own sanity. i'm not kidding.

50 minutes and counting...

...that's how long I've been on hold with BT today so far. I don't mind because they're playing nice music and I'm playing it on speaker-phone.

The nice people in the Customer Options department are speaking to the Incompetents (read: Faults department) on my behalf right now, because I refuse to speak to the Incompetents ever again, for all of eternity.

Goal of today's call: get them to call out an engineer to my flat. That is the only acceptable outcome. All other offers will result in a "Thanks, but no thanks. Please cancel my account." response from me.

Fingers crossed...

mmm...the red cups have arrived

If you live in Houston, don't be bitter that I got to enjoy my first red cup of the season before you. I'm not in charge of the time zone difference. If you love the red cup and are reading this without having had your first of the season, you should go get one right now, because they've been released.

fun with email

I'm sure you've seen a "message undeliverable" from your email program at some point (something from an address such as mailer-daemon@yourcompany.com), but have you ever actually read the email?

Because of some email drama we're having, I decided to read all the text, and was surprised to find myself chuckling. Usually, these things are pretty dry and mostly full of technical speak, but ours goes something like this:

"I'm afraid I had problems forwarding your message. Full details follow:

Subject: 'blah blah blah'
Date: 'Wed, 1 Nov 2006 04:21:25 -0600'

1 error(s):

SMTP Server <64.97.139.1> rejected recipient 'some.guy@hiscompany.com' (Error following RCPT command). It responded as follows: [550 RCPT TO: 'some.guy@hiscompany.com' User unknown]

I have also attached the mail's original headers. Sorry it didn't work out."

"Sorry it didn't work out." - ???

It sounds like someone's breaking up with me. "Hey...thanks for giving it a go with this (email) relationship, but...I'm sorry...it didn't work out - you're just not my type."

I'm sure some IT guy who was bored to tears or just having a tiny bit of fun wrote that...it's good to have a little fun with otherwise boring tasks. I'm sure that's why there are so many funnies buried in all the Microsoft applications.

word of the day: attenuate

Despite having worked for an oil & gas contractor for over 4 years, I still often come across stuff that is so full of technical language that it takes me a few attempts to make sense of even the normal words. One such example from today:

"We are especially interested in your ability to perform strength level analyses, ductility level analyses, nonlinear time-history analyses, and to quantify source-to-site motion attenuation."

The more I read the sentence, I began to realize that I understood everything except the word "attenuation" (and what the heck a nonlinear time-history looks like), so I looked it up, hoping I could figure out a way to throw it into a normal conversation and enjoy the funny looks I know I'd get in response.

Turns out, it's not really a technical word at all (or, not exclusively, anyway) and it might just be my new favorite word.

at·ten·u·ate (v. tr.)

1. To make slender, fine, or small: The drought attenuated the river to a narrow channel.
2. To reduce in force, value, amount, or degree; weaken: Medicine attentuated the fever's effect.
3. To lessen the density of; rarefy.
4. Biology. To make (bacteria or viruses) less virulent.
5. Electronics. To reduce (the amplitude of an electrical signal) with little or no distortion.

Isn't it great!? I wonder why people don't use it more often!

Author's note: I realize this material is a bit dry for a Friday, so if you want a good chuckle, head on over to Laurie's corner of the world wide web and look for her weekly installment of the "friday funnies" for a good laugh.

bt update

(for the record, i assume that most people really don't need or want to hear all the annoying details, but i'm finding that putting my frustration out there, ostensibly for all to see, is a rather cathartic activity...so for the sake of my own sanity, i write)

for those who are waiting on pins and needles for the final outcome...another episode in the epic drama:

17 october (last tuesday): this was the day the last incompetent promised that my broadband service would be working, which of course came and went without event.

20 october (last friday): this was the day i called to cancel my bt broadband service and managed to speak to the most intelligent person in the company who talked me through a couple of remaining options, which included sending out new equipment (free of charge) to double-check that it isn't a hardware issue, and then finally sending out an engineer to my home (which, apparently, it's STILL not time to do). the incompetents in the faults department never even MENTIONED a potential hardware issue, and thusly never offered to replace the equipment. so we ordered the equipment and it smart bt lady said it should arrive on 25 october, but will have to be delivered to my home address for a stupid but immovable reason. this means that i will have to either catch an early train home some day this week to get to the sorting office in time to pick it up or wait until saturday. how annoying.

21-23 october: hmm...wonder if i should have just told the lady i wasn't interested and to still just cancel the service and go with a t-mobile hotspot account and limit my away-from-work internet usage to starbucks' opening hours...?

24 october (this past tuesday): first call ever FROM the incompetents since the last conversation with them (14 october) which resulted in the 17 october deadline for a working connection. this guy claimed that they had "repeatedly tried to contact me for the past several days on my home phone". i politely (are you impressed?) reminded him that i've told at least 4 different people that i'm NEVER home during business hours, and that they should ALWAYS call me on my mobile phone...which all have promised they have duly noted in my account. riiight. i explained the 20 october phone call with smart bt lady to the incompetent. he agreed to call back on wednesday night, after i'd had time to receive and hook up the new equipment.

25 october (yesterday): the day came and went without the arrival of the equipment or a note from the postal service about attempted delivery, etc. hmm, confidence in smart bt lady now decreasing. but of course, i got a call from the incompetents while i was at the gym, and therefore a voicemail, which said "if your connection still doesn't work after installing the new equipment tonight, please call us back" which clearly means "this is your last call from us...your turn". good thing i had a really tough work-out and was completely knackered...lacking the physical or mental strength to even be annoyed with smart bt lady OR the incompetents.

26 october (today): i have no idea what to do now. desperately hope new equipment arrives today but not even cautiously optimistic. maybe if new equipment does't arrive today, will call tomorrow and re-try to cancel and hope equipment order never went out and i don't have to deal with returning it, etc.

number of calendar days since broadband was supposedly activated: 48

...to be continued...

soy milk is not for me

So I'm reading this book called "Eat Right for Your Type", which is mostly about how the foods you eat are processed differently by your body based on your blood type (A, B, AB or O). It postulates that some things that are GREAT for Type Bs are almost poisonous for Type As and so on. So it naturally includes some recommendations for the types of things you should and should not eat (and drink) for the various types. So I thought I'd give it a shot.

I'm Type A, and the author reckons that my kind tend to do well on vegetarian diets (um, but I'm from Texas!) and recommends limited dairy intake (doesn't this guy know that fat = flavor?). OK...I can get my protein from black bean soup and other non-fajita sources. And I can give up brie and focus my cheese-loving self on the goat variety (which is thankfully allowed). Sure. I'm convinced I can do this.

One of the author's recommendations: for cereal and latte lovers like me...soy milk. Right then. Now, I DO like steamed soy beans (i.e. in their original natural state), but historically I'm generally opposed to consuming this food source after it's moved down the production line to either "milk" or a "burger" (because, honestly, it's just weird), but I'll try just about anything once. I re-read the chapter on Type As last night, made out my grocery list, and set off this morning with an optimistic smile on my face.

Things didn't really start to go badly until I got to my desk, having stopped for my once-a-week Starbucks latte (yeah, normally I get the only-slightly-cheaper version at the train station, which is surprisingly tasty, but I was running late this morning). Walking away from the barista, I'm thinking "from now on, I'm a soy latte girl". First sip..."hey, this isn't too bad". I even felt like my old Starbucks-order-snob self. And then the aftertaste hit.

My latte tastes like vegetables. This is unacceptable.

I've since chucked the soy latte (that's £3 I'll never recover), scratched soy milk off the grocery list, and decided that if there's any hope for this experiment, it's going to have to be non-fat lattes for this little chickie.

If you haven't already managed to retrain your brain to expect your milk (and, I'm assuming, your burgers) to taste like veggies. Take my advice: don't do it!

small victories

Yesterday, I received a phone call from the BT customer complaints department that was in response to my dispute over a £55 charge they levied for sending out a technician to check my PHONE line (note this is totally unrelated to the broadband drama - more on that coming soon).

After a very short explanation, the lady caved and agreed to reverse the charge. I'm still in shock.

Score one for the little people.

evidence that i don't hate musicals

Despite claiming that I'm not really into musicals (categorically speaking), I freely admit to LOVING this show, which I've now seen twice in London. About a year ago, it was the first show I saw in the West End since moving here. In that performance, Linda Carter played the role of Mamma Morton. To say that her performance was sub-optimal is to be kind.

For the record, Wonder Woman's appearance was not the draw of the show for me.

The second viewing came this weekend. This time around, I was actually lured in by the hope of a better portrayal of Mamma Morton and by the fact that Ashlee Simpson (yes, sister of Jessica) was to be playing the role of Roxie Hart. Good move, I say. After that lip-syncing debacle on SNL, surely a stint in live theatre will prove she's got decent vocal skills.

Ashlee's first number wasn't stellar, but she warmed up over the course of the show, and by the end, I have to admit that I was impressed with her performance. Of course, going in with zero expectations probably helped - the only direction to move was up.

I did have to giggle a bit when, during one of her numbers she had to sing “…they’re gonna recognize…my nose…” I think a tiny audible escaped my lips, but it couldn’t be helped.

Sadly, the second attempt at Mamma Morton wasn't as much of an improvement as I'd hoped it would be. But let's be honest...who's EVER going to top Queen Latifah?

adventures in incompetence

For those of you keeping score, I'm now at day 37 of no-Internet-connection-at-home life, thanks to our friends at BT, to whom I'll refer to as "The Incompetents". I have logged over 10 hours of phone calls with them since I've been keeping track.

I can't be bothered to go into the details, because, frankly, I'm sure my 2.7 readers don't care...and because it makes me sad.

The one bit of news I'll report is this: I actually yelled at someone on the phone on Saturday.

I haven't done that in so long that I can't remember the last time it happened (it's been years, people). And it made me mad (and if you know me at all, you'll know that one of the things that really makes my blood boil is when I'm mad about being mad) and it made me really sad.

So I'm sad today...in general...because (as ludicrous as it is) this whole dramatic saga is now affecting my general state of mind. How sad is THAT?!

PSL envy

Well folks, not only is the UK behind in (most) film release dates...I think they're behind in seasonal liquid degustation supply.

Thanks to Hot Toddy (and friends), I've just discovered that Starbucks makes something called a "Pumpkin Spice Latte", which I already know I love, despite the fact that I've never tasted it. (See, I'm new to the latte club...and since I used to be a faithful member of the mocha club, I never even registered names of anything ending in "...latte" before.)

Now, I'm not sure if the Marketing folks on this side of the pond are purposefully remiss on this front, because even though they don't go for the whole "Thanksgiving" thing over here, it's still AUTUMN...and aren't pumpkins part of the general feel of the season despite the lack of Pilgrims and Indians dotting the decorative landscape? I certainly would have thought so.

I suppose I can live without the PSL, but his whole thing is already making me nervous that they may forego my beloved Peppermint Mocha come Christmas-time. (Note: that's peppermint, folks...NOT just mint, as the former is made with peppermint syrup and the latter with crème de menthesyrupm - huge difference.)

Good thing I'll be home for Christmas. If I can't get the P-Mocha here, I'll be able to get my fix at home, and it will just make the trip all the more sentimental.

just a spoonful of sugar...

Although I was still a bit skeptical at intermission (no, not even cautiously optimistic)...in the end I really enjoyed the show. I think my skepticism was more related to a generally bad mood thanks to a ridiculously drama-filled week (many thanks to BT). It sucks to be pre-mad or pre-irritated, so I'm glad Scarlett Strallen and Gavin Creel wore me down during the second act with their excellent portrayals of the beloved and iconic characters of Mary Poppins and Bert.

I've been alternating between singing (yes, out loud) "Steppin' Time" and the title track ever since I left the theater last night.

i'm trapped

Five weeks, one day and at least 6 hours of phone calls into the Internet-getting process, and BT still hasn't connected me to the (seemingly) ubiquitous Internet from home.

In the last week, the number of attempted phone calls to BT has escalated, as has the amount of time that I've spent on hold or explaining my situation (for the millionth time). I am so tired of spelling my full name and confirming the first line of my address and my post code that I could...well, spit (as my mom would say).

In the latest series of infuriating moments, I was told by technical support on Saturday that I needed to speak with the Order Management Helpdesk because there was a "provisioning issue" and the order had never been processed (WHAT!???). After being transferred, I spoke to those charming folks (and I use that term rather loosely), and they confirmed all was well on their end. Back to technical support I go for yet another round of technical support troubleshooting ("Can you tell me what the problem seems to be, Miss Kirpta? Is the DSL light flashing on your router...?"). I was then told that there is a "problem between the exchange and my phone line" and that they were "working on the problem right now"...and that it would be resolved within the "next 24 hours". Yeah. Sure. This is me holding my breath. So don't ask me why I've turned the color of Smurfette.

Today I decided that I'd spend my hold time between fruitless conversations with technical support a bit more productively...while I'm at work. I managed to get some weak-willed soul to hand the phone over to a supervisor who, after only 5 minutes of discussion, said that he needed to do some research on my account with the Orders Department and the Maintenance Department, and promised to call me back personally in 2 hours. The lying bastard.

Three hours after that empty promise, I called back - determined to get to the bottom of the situation - and spoke to a new person ("...K-E-P-R-T-A...4 Willows Court, and the post code is SW19 1UE"). This time, I just cut her off at the beginning of her questionnaire ("No...I'm sorry...I'm not prepared to go through that round of questions because I've done it 5 times in the last 72 hours and we're not going to make any progress going down that road.") and suggested she just put me on hold and read the notes on my account. She came back, asked to place me on hold again so she could do a tiny bit of research, and returned only to tell me that I needed to call the Order Management Helpdesk. Oh no.

As of right now, I'm no better off than I ever have been, and the last girl I spoke to flat out refused to help me any further or transfer me to a supervisor unless I call back from home so she can go through the troubleshooting questionnaire. As if I'm actually going to ever speak to her again...?

I'm so tired and frustrated that I actually feel depressed...and oppressed. How does one get so utterly trapped under the corporate customer disservice department mousewheel, and what does one do when she can't get anyone above a call center flunky on the line?

I can't WAIT to get it all resolved and working. The first call I'm going to make after I've managed to get on the Internet from home is going to be to the billing department to find out where I address invoices. Because I'm going to be sending them an invoice for all the time I've spent on the phone with them. These are hours for which I have NOTHING to show but a body full of elevated blood pressure, and I'm never going to get that time back, so the most I can hope for is some other form of compensation.

rant

I know I'm a self-proclaimed member of the grammar patrol, and prone to what some would consider an unnecessarily exacting nature when it comes to grammar, diction and marketing.

If you don't care about grammar, diction or marketing...that's REALLY fine with me. If we all had passion for the same things here on earth, it would be a boring place. Variety is the spice of life, and so on.

However, I think it's sad when people who don't want to bother with getting things "just so" in personal correspondence think it's OK to not be OVER THE TOP with editing, spell-checking and proof reading in a professional setting.

Example: there is a major internal project going on at my company, the product of which is being billed as "world class" and "state of the art". I've just read the most recent newsletter that has been issued by the project team (which was distributed to the entire company), and I'm so frustrated:

• TWO different registered phrases that we use ALL THE TIME are not written appropriately (and by this I don't mean that they just happened to leave off the circle-R symbol).
• The marketing tagline that the company has been touting for about a year is used repeatedly throughout the newsletter - but is NEVER written the same way twice.
• There is an error in the page numbering of the newsletter.
• The name of the actual project/product is Trademarked, and there is inconsistent application of the TM symbol!

I realize it's just a newsletter. But honestly...if you want me to really believe that what you're doing in WORLD CLASS, then make EVERYTHING related to it WORLD CLASS, including the newsletter.

I know...I know. I should just quit my job and go to work for a publishing house or find some other place where I can put my red pen to better and more regular use.

Why am I such a snob?! I even annoy myself with it sometimes (especially when I make these same kinds of mistakes myself - but that only demonstrates the fact that we ALL need editors and proof-readers), but I can't NOT care about excellence. I am desperate to find a balance to this frustration...but haven't found it yet, clearly.

PLEASE NOTE: I'm not saying that nobody should ever be allowed to make a mistake, and that one should be hung by his toenails in the first instance of such an offense. But habitual disregard for silly mistakes really winds me up.

the importance of being earnest...

...in Biblical exposition.

Of the (many) synonyms for "earnest" in the thesaurus, I'm specifically thinking of "exacting" and "unrelenting"...I don't think everyone needs a degree in theology and mad skills in the Greek and Hebrew languages to undertake critical Biblical exposition, but there are FAR too many user-friendly tools out there to leave it to a surface view of the modern language when it comes to interpreting the meaning of Scripture.

A good example from my beloved John Stott (emphasis mine):

"The first characteristic of heart-worship is that it is rational; the mind is fully involved in it. For the 'heart' in Scripture is not simply equivalent to the emotions, as it usually is in common parlance today. In biblical thought the 'heart' is the centre of the human personality and is often so used that the intellect is more emphasized than the emotions. Thus, the exhortation in Proverbs 23:26, 'My son, give me your heart,' has often been interpreted as an entreaty for our love and devotion.

It has served as a convenient text for many sermons on whole-hearted discipleship. But in reality it is a command to listen, to pay attention, to sit up and take notice, an appeal more for concentration than for consecration."

--From "Christ the Controversialist" (London: Tyndale Press, 1970), p. 162.

In my (clearly) not so humble opinion, even the most occasional teacher or Bible study leader should consider his role as a faithful steward of the word so weighty that he should devote a considerable portion of his preparation time to an earnest search for the original audience, context and meaning of the text to be reviewed.

Without understanding those things, what's the point of the study?

random bits

I'm still without Internet connectivity at home, and there are weeks of random pictures that are would-be blog entries just waiting for upload on my sad little digital camera. Technically, I could download them to my laptop, save them to a memory stick, bring them to the office for download to this computer and then proceed with blogging about them...but I can't be bothered to go through all that when it should just be a few easy clicks here and there at home.

BT maintains that my phone line is working, but that I have purchased a faulty phone...and I don't use the phone often enough for it to have made it to the top of my priority list to go back to the store and exchange the alleged faulty equipment, partly because I bought it at a shop in Wimbledon, and since all shops close by 6:00pm, the likelihood of me making it back to my neighborhood to run home, grab the phone and make it back to the shop for an exchange is highly unlikely. Yeah, sure I could bring the bad phone with me to work, but that would involve carrying something superfluous both to AND from work. Oh, and I'd have to find the receipt. Likewise, I could just go and purchase a new phone during my lunch break, and take the bad phone back on the weekend, but I can't be bothered to do that either.

BT also maintains that my Internet connectivity was switched on sometime during business hours on the 21st September. Liars. Not only is that exactly 2 weeks after they originally told me it would be switched on, but it's also (as previously stated) still not working. During a sick day last week, on which all I wanted to do was lie unconscious on the sofa, I spent 1 hour on the phone with 2 different "customer service" personnel. Neither were very service oriented. The latest is that they've confirmed there's a fault on the line (shocking!) and they'll have to fix it from their end, although thankfully there will be no in-home appointment required (but I have my doubts). Not that they can tell me when that might be. So I guess I'm to just check my Internet connection daily in hopes of a jubilant moment of glee when the service is finally fault-free. It's like waiting for the Lord to come back if you aren't a Christian, but have been raised in a church-going environment. You've been told He's coming...but you're not convinced. (Yes, I realize this analogy quickly breaks down, because you wouldn't be waiting in hope...blah blah)

I'm desperately trying to blame a co-worker for the cold I've been haggling with for the last 5 days, but he's having none of it.

I found a church I love, and am hoping it's where I'll end up staying...it all rests on how things go over the next couple of weeks getting connected to their version of "home groups" (more on this later).

I've been made aware that I have a habit of singing in public, rather loudly for one who considers herself to be singing "under her breath", and I can't make myself stop. I just like to sing. I want to be a singer. I mean, not professionally...but just, you know...so maybe I could sing in church someday. But even if I had a fabulous voice, I totally go to pieces sometimes during the musical worship...and I don't recall that happening much from people who are up there leading the congregation, so that might present a bit of a hurdle.

It's not fun to blow your nose when you live in London and you're a bit squeamish about icky things.

I like being a train commuter. I can read, watch people, listen to music or listen to a sermon (I highly recommend downloading Piper's sermons from his website)...all without the pesky worry of crashing the car. And it gives me time to wake up in the mornings and decompress in the afternoons.

I want more vacation days as part of my compensation package. Living in the UK has ruined me for life in this regard. People take 2- and 3-week holidays here and still have enough days left to have the odd three-day weekend or random personal days. I'm pre-sad about losing the extra time when I go back home. Note to self: must work on negotiation skills.

I don't love Kit-Kat bars as much as I used to. I don't know if this is because my general love of sweets is fading, or if I'm just becoming a chocolate snob (because, let's face it...Kit Kat isn't really at the posh end of the chocolate spectrum).

yarr!

Ahoy me hearties! Today be yer chance to raise the Jolly Roger and enjoy some grog whilst ye raid, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer yer weasely black guts out!

Aye! Ye guessed it!

Today is Talk Like a Pirate Day!

don't you hate it when...

...YOU are the idiot of the situation?

I moved into my new flat exactly 2 weeks ago today (8/31). When I called BT to ask them to move my telephone service to join me they said they could switch the service over on the following Monday (9/4). There was no service technician required, that's just...well, that's just when it would happen.

(Did anyone else get visions/memories of a Brian Regan bit just then? "Can you flip it now? Can I come and flip it?")

Oh, and by the way, my broadband service (also provided by BT) wouldn't be switched over until Friday (9/8) because BT needs "at least 7 days notice to move broadband services". (Whatever.)

I don't use the land line telephone all that much, so I noticed on Friday night (9/8) when I tried to set up the broadband that neither was working. I couldn't manage to remember to call BT for help during working hours until Monday (9/11), at which point they decided it best to send out a technician, whose first available appointment was "sometime between 8 and 12" on Thursday (today, 9/14). Great. I'll take the morning off and stroll into the office at lunchtime. No worries.

This morning, at the very same moment my arse landed on my desk chair (7:45am), I remembered the appointment with BT and cried aloud:

"DAMMIT!"

Now I get to start all over again with BT, and I have nobody to blame but myself.

mark your calendars!

September 29 is
Office Olympics Day!

There's still time to prepare! Recruit fellow team-mates...challenge rival departments...create charts and spreadsheets for multi-heat events...design the gold, silver and bronze medals!

Come on, people! Give that competitive spirit a pair of wings!

it's not all about me...

...even though almost every time I check out John's blog, I think it is.

See, John has some whiz-bang super-cool something going on in the depths of his blog engine that knows it's me every time I visit his blog (since I've posted a comment in the past, maybe?), so every time I check it out to see if he's written anything recently (and he hasn't...shame), his blog says "Welcome Back, Dovie!"

The very first thing I see is "Dovie!" in bold letters - and I think, for about 0.5 seconds, that he's written a whole blog entry about me...but he hasn't.

Oh, the dissappointment!!

the wales / johnson soundtrack

Well...since Dennis outed them here, I figure this is a good place to create the Dennis Wales / Laurie Johnson soundtrack.

My suggestions, in no particular order:

• "Angel Eyes" - Jeff Healey / John Hiatt (Master Hits / The Best of...)
• "Over My Head - The Fray (How to Save a Life)
• "White T-Shirt" - Tara Leigh Cobble (Things You Can't Stop...)
• "Harbor" - ViennaTeng (Warm Strangers)
• "Strange Condition" - Pete Yorn (Music for the Morning After)
• "All About Our Love" - Sade (Lovers Rock)
• "Falling into Love" - Dana Glover (Testimony)
• "Heart of Mine" - Norah Jones & The Peter Malek Group (New York City)
• "Don't Give Up On Me" - Solomon Burke (title track)
• "When Love Comes to Town" - U2 & BB King (The Best of 1980 - 1990)
  
  

my montage soundtrack

If memory serves, most music montages are only long enough to warrant the use of one song (edited for flow, even). However, I do like the idea of a soundtrack, because in real life...the montage does last a long time, doesn't it?

Therefore, I will list below several songs I know are on the soundtrack...even though there are others that will inevitably be added as time goes on.

• "This is Your Life" - Switchfoot (The Beautiful Letdown)
• "Where Will I Be" - Emmylou Harris (Wrecking Ball)
• "Hope to Carry On" - Caedmon's Call (Caedmon's Call)
• "She Must and Shall Go Free" - Derek Webb (title track)
• "I'm Alright" - Kenny Loggins (various albums)
• "A Foggy Day (In London Town)" - Michael Buble (It's Time)
• "I Like the Way You Move" - Bodyrockers (Bodyrockers)
• "Oh Eh" - Gipsy Kings (The Very Best of the Gipsy Kings)
• "Springtime Indiana" - Sandra McCracken (Gypsy Flat Road)
• "All That You Have is Your Soul" - Tracy Chapman (Crossroads '89)

music montage

you know how in the movies you'll see some dramatic scene followed by a music montage that shows you all sorts of bits and pieces of "life after the scene" during which the person in the dramatic situation gets her stuff together, recovers from the drama, or goes into a really productive time in life that's not really all that fabulously exciting but is full of that 'good life stuff that just needs to be done'?

yeah, well...i think i'm about to enter a music montage.

i like these moments...er, montages.

in fact, when people ask me how things are going when i'm in one of these seasons, i think i'm going to start saying "i'm in a montage" instead of saying "oh, nothing terribly exciting" because although the bits of the montage aren't exciting in and of themselves - i mean, there's a reason they put all that stuff to music and just show you the highlights - the fact that i'm in a montage actually is exciting.

friday funnies - or not

I know I've just totally plagiarized the "friday funnies" title from Laurie, but she inspired me...and she's way funnier than me, so I don't think I'm stealing any thunder here or anything.

I started this post on Tuesday thinking the list would create itself. In the end, I only came up with three things to include, which I happen to think are funny...but also happen to have been said by ME.

• "These guys are NOT Pennsylvania Dutch." (okay, well, this was me quoting something I read on the Internet, but still...)
• "Let's review the technical definition of homelessness, shall we?"
• "I'm reading this book that keeps making me think of you; it's called 'Don't Waste Your Life'."
  

I'm not even sure if they're funny. I mean...I think they were at the time...but when you look back on the funniest moments of the week, that you can actually remember (by the way, how DO you do that Laurie?), shouldn't there be some sort of warning light that goes off when they're all quotes of yourself?

side note

For those of you who may have heard my nightmare haircut story recently...just a clarification: NO...this is NOT where I got my hair cut. I would have taken one look at that sign and kept on walkin'.



(Thanks for the pic, Todd)

sad day

My office friend, described in this post back in July, is wearing a short-sleeve button up shirt with a tie today.

He does get points for the button up shirt, rather than button down - and if you want to know about that, maybe I'll write about it tomorrow - but gets complete disqualifiation for today's ensemble thanks to the short sleeves.

Guys...please pay attention...don't EVER wear a tie with ANY short sleeve shirt. In fact, you shouldn't even OWN a short-sleeve button up in a solid colored "wear this to the office" kind of material.

When I saw it, I sighed "Oh NO" (very Phoebe-esque) audibly. He didn't hear. Thank God for small blessings.

For the record, it's not an eternal deal-breaker...the boy can be taught (I mean, he went to Oxford and all...so surely he's a fast learner), but it's still a sad day.

quotable seuss

“Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”
  - Dr. Seuss

don't use your brain

I think this is what the TSA folks tell all their bag-checkers at the airports. I mean, if they were to let people judge for themselves what is safe and what isn't safe to carry on a plane...they might let the wrong person through the line. That's the only way I can reconcile what happened to me on Sunday.

I flew back to the UK from Houston on Sunday night. I dutifully checked online to see what I was now allowed to carry on the aircraft, and it looked like there was nothing in my purse that would be considered contraband. Yay!

I made it through the first security screening without any problems. I did a little shopping and got to the gate with a new book ("This is NOT Chick Lit", more on that after I've actually read it) and a few magazines to enjoy.

When they called our flight for boarding, I passed through the gate and into the hallway leading to the plane...and here's where things went dreadfully wrong.

I saw that we were being put through a secondary security screening after the gate...no problem. I'm a happily compliant traveler. I waited to be called forward, and AS I WAS STEPPING UP TO THE TABLE I hear one of the TSA staff members say "If we haven't called you to the side, please keep moving forward". I immdiately think "Grr...I wouldn't have to wait for this if I'd been here the last time he said that", but in reality I don't mind...I've got nothing to hide.

Then the guy searching my purse says, "Oh...I can't let you take this with you" and pulls out a small almost-empty tube of lip gloss. BLAST! Then he spots the replacement tube for the soon-to-be-discarded one..."Oh...not this one either"...rummage...rummage...then, "What's this one?" My reply: "Well, it's not lip gloss, but it's not a solid lipstick either." TSA guy: "Oh, sorry...that one's out too."

Walking away, I'm thinking "DAMMIT...I just lost at least $25 worth of lip stuff because I didn't hear or realize they were only doing spot checks at the gate!"

Normally, this wouldn't irritate me that much, because, well...maybe I didn't read Continental's website closely enough...and maybe it still says (or implies) that lip gloss isn't ok. So...I decided about 2 minutes after the lip-stuff-confiscation that I was over it.

BUT...somewhere along the way on the flight, I reached into my purse to get my pen (oh, yes...to fill out my landing card) and what did I find? Are you ready for it?

• one remaining tube of lip gloss
• one pointed-tip metal fingernail file

SO many more thoughts on the subject...but I'll just end with this:

SERIOUSLY????

keeping it real

I got some new body lotion. It's from Kiehl's. They make really good stuff. I've liked every single product I've ever had with their label on it.

Their product labels are very old-world apothecary-like (well, that's how they look to me), and just beg to be read (I mean, there's a whole lot of text there, compared to the average label). As I read the label on my new bottle of lotion, I was amused by the claims that it makes...apparently, the marketing folks at Kiehl's belive this particular it's so good that this is what they say about it ON THE BOTTLE: "Continued use for 10 days will provide a skin texture heretofore unattainable."

I think it takes a lot of confidence (to put it lightly) to make that sort of statement.

However, I've had (and have been using) the lotion for 6 days, and I think the good folks at Kiehl's are just keeping it real...I haven't even made it to day 10 yet and I'm already impressed with my new and improved skin texture. No wonder this lotion is one of the best-selling things in their shops.

Now I don't want to hear a peep from all you people out there who are thinking "yeah...sure...10 consecutive days of ANY lotion would probably yield a skin texture heretofore unattainable". I'm not interested in your naysaying. Just let me be with my over-priced lotion. It's the closest to posh I'm ever going to get, so I'd like to enjoy my pseudo-poshness in peace and tranquility...as I smile silently to myself over my soft and supple skin. I deserve to enjoy it - I paid good money for it!

6 random facts

1. The first movie I remember seeing in a theater was Xanadu, and I still sing the theme song in the shower sometimes.
2. I can make a very weird shape with my tongue.
3. I played the flute in middle school, and still regret ever giving it up.
4. I had my first boyfriend in kindergarten.
5. My dad helped build the Astrodome.
6. I can say the Pledge of Allegience in French.

bugger

Has anyone ever noticed that after the first person makes a comment on a blog entry (on the blogspot platform) that the page thereafter reads "1 comments" until another comment is made and all is right in the subject/verb agreement universe again.

Man...that bugs!!

in julia's shoes

Thanks to my good friend Mike, I have some really sweet friends in London that invited me to the BBC Proms on Friday night.



The BBC Proms is a classical concert series that runs for several weeks and features various conductors and orchestras. This year the Proms is celebrating Mozart's 250th birthday, and quite a few performances are of his various works, but we saw a SPECTACULAR performance of Symphony Fantastique by Berlioz.

I felt like I was in Julia Roberts' shoes for two reasons:

1. TOTAL "Pretty Woman" scene - all dressed up, sitting in box seats at the very fancy Royal Albert Hall and sipping champagne.
2. The same piece of music is prominant in another of Julia's movies, "Sleeping with the Enemy".

For the record, the entirety of the piece is much less ominous than the bits that are played in that film.

the irony of it all

So, I have a good friend (we'll call her Heather) who totally goes gaga over the South African accent. I myself am partial to the Scottish accent (as has been well documented).

Now...there's a South African guy at MY office...and a Scottish guy at HER office. And by "at MY/HER office" I mean to say that we both have to speak to these guys daily...it's not like either of them is some random guy at the other end of the floor that we maybe talk to once every few weeks.

What's up with that?!

wasted time?

I fell in love with all things Scottish about 9 years ago...but recently my eyes were opened to a related group of people - the Irish - who have given the Scots a run for their money to occupy that special place in my heart.

Now I've discovered that I may have been misdirected in my affection all this time...because apparently, I would settle well in the land of St. Patrick.

You Belong in Dublin

Friendly and down to earth, you want to enjoy Europe without snobbery or pretensions. You're the perfect person to go wild on a pub crawl... or enjoy a quiet bike ride through the old part of town.

What European City Do You Belong In?

sigh

I went to my first-ever salsa lesson last night with a friend from work. Two words: GOOD TIMES!

Dancing is one of many times in life when I'm so thankful to be a girl. It's so nice to just be able to feel the vibe and be LED by the man. I don't envy you guys for having to think of the beat, the moves, directing the woman's moves, etc.

I think it's especially hard for a man to lead those of us who have a tendency to "get it" and try and anticipate where you're going, etc. Hmm...life lesson there? Anyway, back to the subject at hand.

Ladies, what IS IT about a man who's got rhythm, can dance and leads well? I mean, I totally fell in crush with the instructor last night...just because he was a fabulous dancer.

Don't get me wrong. You don't need to win "Dancing with the Stars" for me to want to dance with you...but guys, take a note here. Even if you think you're not very good, take some lessons...you're probably not as white as you think you are (in the rhythm department), and the ladies will swoon.

mr. yuck is mean...

...mr. yuck is GREEN!

brilliant marketing

Many thanks to my good friend Basim for pointing me to this brilliant piece of marketing.

I hope the person that thought up this campaign got a raise.

i'm not a stalker...

...but I feel like one some days!

See, I have an acquaintance at work that needs to become my friend, but he could NOT be more quiet, introverted and a generally keeps-to-himself kind of guy. He's actually quite chatty when you get him to talk, but otherwise you wouldn't even hear him make a peep! I'm not making him out to seem very interesting, am I?

Well, let's just trust my judgment, kids. He's good people, and we'll become friends if we ever get to talk for more than 2-minute increments in the kitchen/copy room. However, since that's our only current social interaction at the office...this is how it goes down (here's where I start to feel stalker-ish):

I can see the door to the kitchen/copy room from my office. Therefore, I can see when my coworker/friend enters said room (mostly to pick up copies, if you must know), so in order to facilitate little chats here and there, I have developed a tendency to print stuff and leave it to be picked up whenever it strikes my fancy, which usually coincides with my friend visiting the copy room to pick up his own printing.

Now, I realize this might seem a bit scary. Honestly, I happen to think it's VERY funny as well...and the bottom line is that we actually usually have a decent chat or two every week thanks to my planning efforts. Someday if we really become good friends, I'll tell him about this and we'll have a good laugh.

For now, I just laugh at myself, especially when I miss him (he's quite a fast walker) and wonder how many other people do this sort of thing around the office...especially when there's a crush involved (which is not what I'm saying is involved here...but the social scene at the office is a bit dry, so give me a break).

I mean, don't get me wrong...it's not like this is a completely one-sided friendship development plan. We met for drinks one afternoon a couple of weekends ago, at his suggestion, and we chatted for 2 hours. I'm just sayin'...

Besides, I'm the marketing girl. And it's part of my JOB to make sure people are enjoying their job, getting the support they need...and building relationships among coworkers is all part of that.

But go ahead...let me have it...I'm a strong girl...I can take it!

Oh, one other thing: I tend to think this is very much a girly behavior...but I'm curious to know if the male population of my readers has/would ever demonstrate such antics.

Discuss.

giggle

I'm composing a letter to a someone called Nguyen Quoc Thang...so I've just written the phrase "Dear Mr. Thang".

That cracks me up.

i suffer from etc

I think the reflexologist at my gym is trying to drum up some business. I first noticed a few home-made ads around the locker room and workout floors a couple of weeks ago, but never paid them much attention.

This weekend, while queuing at the fountain to fill up my water bottle, I actually read one of the ads. I've recreated the part that struck me below:



Now, although I occasionally do suffer from stress (I mean, who doesn't?), it's not often a part of my daily life. Thankfully, the reflexologist made it clear what other ailments I might have that she could address, namely: etcetera. If she hadn't included that one in the list, I might have thought she couldn't do anything to help me.

a new word for the OED?

Don't you hate it when you know several people who know this person you've never met...and they all think he (or she) is really cool...and you know you'd be friends if fate hadn't somehow kept your paths from crossing before one of you moved away from ALL of the people involved?

Yeah...I call that being "pre-friends" with someone.

Troy and I are pre-friends (although I'm not sure he's aware of this status or the name of it).

Troy is friends with Todd and Laurie and all sorts of other cool people in Houston. And we'll be friends if he still lives in Houston when I get back. But for now, I am getting to know him through bits and pieces on several blogs, including his own. But since there's a degree of separation between our blogs, I forget to read it for days at a time...so I've remedied that today by adding him to my links.

Some might call this stalking, but as I established above, I call it being pre-friends, and I'm considering a letter to the OED editors requesting credit when they add it.

Wimbledon is a tough act to follow, but...

...how about this:

I'm MOVING!



After much debate I have decided that, although I have *loved* this last year (aka "The Year of Decompression"), I miss the buzz of city life. So, I'm heading in to settle myself somewhere inside the Big Smoke.

So, if you want to take advantage of the current spacious and luxurious accomodation I've landed in the suburbs, I suggest you get here before mid-August. I'll be happily settled in (probably much) smaller and more modest quarters from September forward.

wimbledon!

I spent the day at Wimbledon today...it was months in coming, but it totally snuck up on me! Months ago, I sent in the public lottery form, opting to take whatever tickets I could get (you do have the option to say I want this particular day on this particular court...but I don't follow tennis closely enough to care who I saw or when I went).

A few months later I got a letter telling me I had been chosen in the lottery...and now had the option to purchase tickets for Court No 1. WOOHOO!

I went for it, but have been so busy the last few months that it feels like the last time I thought about it was 2 months ago, and then suddenly last week I realized it was almost time to party with the rest of the tennis-loving world!

So...here are a few pictures from today's festivities!

iPod...don't leave home without it

On Saturday, I trained in to London for a day of neighborhood exploration (I'm considering a move closer in to the Big Smoke). Because I was carrying around my handy-dandy A to Z guide, I wasn't up for any additional and unnecessary paraphernalia to weigh me down, so I left my iPod at home (and any consideration of a second book for reading material was certainly out of the question).

Bad move.

On the train home, we left Waterloo station right on time (as usual), but stopped about 8 minutes into our journey for a 10-minute delay due to 'faulty tracks in the area'. No problem. Minor delay.

In about 10 minutes, we were again merrily on our way. And then we slowed to a second stop just before reaching Wimbledon. This time, the train guard made an announcement that there was a signal failure further down the line, and there were NO TRAINS moving anywhere in the area and the expected delay was approximately 40 minutes.

Nice.

At this point, the sum total of my entertainment consisted of trying to count the leaves on the tress outside the window of my train compartment. About 15 minutes later, we pulled in to the Wimbledon station, where there was plenty of people-watching to be done, thankfully. But even that bit of mental stimulus would have best been accompanied by some fresh tunes.

I arrived home approximately 2 hours and 10 minutes after my train departed Waterloo station. Normally, this journey would have taken 30 minutes (including the walk from the Woking train station to my flat). Certainly, it could have been a lot worse, but...

I will never ever again be without my iPod on a train. Never.

happy birthday to basim!

music recommendation

I don't do this very often, because frankly I'm more of a follower than a leader on the music scene. However, for those of you who like Norah and haven't discovered this album, go to the store RIGHT NOW and get it.

and there was much rejoicing

It's going to be a good week. I could sense it when I got up this morning. All my laundry is done (if you ever live in England you'll understand why that's actually noteworthy), my flat is clean, I had a very productive weekend, I have new clothes hanging in the closet anxiously awaiting their first outing, and...

...STARBUCKS OPENED TODAY!

As I was approaching the shop on my way to the office, I spotted a guy sporting that familiar green apron tying balloons to a few of the outdoor chairs. I slowed, smiled and steered closer to the target. I asked if they were open yet, and he informed me that they would be open at 9:00 this morning.

Ten minutes after 9:00, I was walking out of the office with that silly "I'm so excited I can't stop smiling" grin on my face (which lasted all the way through my round-trip journey). At 9:15, I was queuing (yes, I was IN LINE in their first hour of business on opening day) for my first ever grande two-pump mocha in the great and thriving metropolis of Woking, England.

Ah, the beauty of consistent recipes and naming conventions worldwide. There IS a place where I speak the same language as the locals...it's called Starbucks. And in that place, life is good.

Everyone at the office thinks I'm off my rocker, but they don't understand, do they?

sometimes what's "right" just doesn't feel good

I'm sending an email to my boss and Word is telling me that my first attempt at is grammatically incorrect.



Fair point. When I noticed the green squiggly lines and thought about it, I realized that, technically, "there's" is a subject/verb agreement error (and that I regularly make this mistake in speech due to inattentiveness). And even though I don't think I'd ever say it, I thought I'd try what would be technically correct.



Apparently, Bill's grammar police are OK with this approach, but that just doesn't look right to me. So I went "long hand" and wrote it out.



Now, not only have I sent a grammatically correct email, but I have been made aware of my own regular carelessness with my speech.

Sometimes I wonder how people get by in life without (or without deference to) the red and blue squiggle lines. I think they're a God-send (and a source of much enjoyment)!

overheard in italy

So, I'm sitting in Piazza San Marco in Venice with my friend Laura. We're enjoying the scenery, people watching and beautiful weather. The two girls sitting to our right are busily sketching the facade of the Basilica in their drawing pads. The pigeons are scurrying about begging for hand-outs. Two little kids are playing chase with their dad around the square while another little boy traces the pattern laid out by the the stones that make up the square. The scene is perfect.

And then this guy shows up.



(Warning to the reader: some difficult or potentially offensive language / subject matter ahead)

His opening line: "I'm not helping you carry all that crap."

And it contined from there:

"I sat here for THREE HOURS while you two did all that shopping, so you're going to have to carry it all yourself...blah, blah, blah...

...I mean, I was sitting here on my a$$ for three hours, with nothing to do...blah, blah, blah...

...I even had to take a dump in those crappy toilets over there...[this comment was met with stifled giggles from Laura and me and the two sketching girls]...

...three hours...blah, blah, blah...

...What the hell did you buy for three hours anyway? Do you realize you were gone for three hours?

...I'm not carrying anything for you. Which water taxi do we take back to the hotel?"

This 'conversation' went on for about 15 minutes (which probably doesn't seem like very long to those of you who weren't there), and then one of the sketching girls leaned over to her friend and said "Hey...how long were they gone again? Was it three hours?"

I guffawed.

By the way...the two women who had been shopping for 3 hours were each carrying one bag each, and the bags looked to be not quite large enough for two normal-sized shoe boxes. How much help did he think they needed?

i'm stumpted

For the life of me, I can't figure out what this sign means.

reason # 27 to take voice lessons

I'm so jealous of Steven.

First, because he's a faster on-your-feet thinker than I am (I would have just blushed at being told my "singing was enough", and never thought to ask for a freebie until the opportunity had passed).

Second, because he actually DID get a freebie...just for singing!

It reminds me of some college friends who used to go to a music festival every summer, and they instituted a "sing for a pancake" breakfast at their campsite. By the 3rd year, they were taking LOTS of extra pancake-making-stuff with them, because they would actually have people LINING UP at their campsite, waiting to sing a tune for a free flapjack. Some people were actually GOOD.

I never sang, primarily because the sing-for-a-pancake breakfast was instituted after the summers I went to the festival (if any C-Stone pancake breakfast peeps are reading, correct me if I'm getting any bits of the story wrong). But if we're honest (and that's what we try to be around these parts), it's because I'm confident I have a horrific singing voice and would NEVER sing a solo in PUBLIC.

I'm sure this is something that can be helped (not necessarily cured) by voice lessons...which is one of the things on my 99-things-to-do-before-I-die list.

ALL THAT to say...you go with your bad free-cigar-getting-singer self, Steven. I salute you.

i LOVE my church!!

italy...an overview

Rome, Florence, Pisa and Venice. Wow...good times!

Since there are a few folks chomping at the bits for pictures, I'll get that part out of the way, and save the good stories for the next few days.

First...Rome.
Rome is wonderful...truly amazing that so much has survived. But every step you take feels like you're walking past some amazing bit of history, and you just don't know it. I've already forgotten a large percentage of the things I learned while I was there (as is evident by my sparse commentary to the pictures). It's so full of history that it overwhelms me...and amazingly, you actually tire of seeing "another really old something". Strange, that. I definitely recommend going, but any trip (at any part of the year) needs to be planned well, as it's ALWAYS full of tourists, and lines can be so long it's just silly.

Next...Florence, Pisa and Venice.
Florence is my favorite, but that's only because I like spending money there. Venice would be my favorite if I had been travelling with a boy I get to kiss. Pisa is just a quick day-trip from Florence, and you can see all you need to see in less than 4 hours. But it's worth going just to get that obligatory "I'm-holding-up-the-tower" picture.

Um...do I sound like I want to be Rick Steve's next personal assistant, or is it just me?

when in Rome...

I'm keenly aware of the fact that, shortly after SWM gave me (and my good friend Laurie) props for having good blogs, I promplty dropped the proverbial blogging ball.

Before anyone else (namely SWM) has a chance to point out that fact, and in my defense, I'd like to offer a few pre-emptive points:

1. Good blogging takes time and energy, which are two things I have been short on since the aforementioned SWM prop-giving, partly because
2. I had a visitor last week, and
3. I was out of town for a few days. However,
4. it's not going to get much better for at least another week because
5. I'm leaving tomorrow to traipse around a few Italian towns for the next 10 days, and
6. even though I'm sure they have Internet Cafes readily available, they are (shockingly) not at the top of my "must see" list, and
7. if I should happen to experience any earth-shattering events while I'm there (such as falling in love with a fabulous Italian man),
8. I won't be taking the necessary time out of that whole thing just to tell YOU people about it, when
9. we ALL know the first thing I'll do is blog about it when I get home.

Yeah...so it's clearly not as eternally significant as the group of folks heading off to Cuba on Saturday (my prayers are with you guys)...but it IS Italy.

better late than never!

The irony is that when Danny and Steff and Basim were here, I laughed harder than I have in AGES...and it's taken me way too long to get these pictures posted.

Good times were had by all!

oh happy day

My little London suburbian town (Woking) is officially ON THE MAP.

best friends

I'm blessed. I feel like one of the fortunate souls running around this world that knows there are more people than I can count on my fingers and toes that truly love me. Family, friends, even co-workers. I don't think there are many people that can say that with confidence. I know it's none of my own doing...it's a blessing of God. Each of these loves is so very different...even one family member's love is different from another. And friends are the same.

Most of us probably have close friends that are in our current, immediate and daily life. Most of us also have life-long, or historical friends, that may not live nearby, but will never be far from our hearts. Somewhere, among one of those kinds of friends, is your best friend. I'm jealous of those of you whose best friend is still a pat of your immediate and daily life...in the same city, knowing the rest of your current circle.

I was never really big on that "best friend" label...or the whole BFF thing. But somewhere along the way I realized that I was going to be friends with my best friend for life, really. Nobody will ever be able to replace or match the history we have together...years of inside jokes, tears shed, and laughing so hard you can't breathe anymore. A few come close, and you bring them into the fold of life-long friends...but I think there's only ever one best friend.

My best friend lives something like 6 time zones away from me. Short of seeing each other almost daily, I'll always maintain that we don't get enough time together...but for being on two different continents, we do a pretty good job. It was one of those friendships that you just know was ordained before the dawn of time (well, let's not get into the theology of that)...it was at least one of the reasons I ended up at the University of Houston (instead of Austin or College Station), part of the reason I mustered the courage to spend 6 months studying in France with a bunch of people I never met (including the Americans), and so many other things. We've known each other long enough to know each other's habits, patterns of thought, and points of utter stupidity when it comes to certain points of our logic...and yet we sharpen each other every time we talk or get to spend time together. When she has moments of chaos, I'm the rock...and vice versa. She tells me when I'm a b*tch (and frankly, few others have been willing to do the same), and vice versa.

She's the first person I want to call when I've got fabulous news or when I think I might be about to lose my mind with worry or frustration or any number of life's quandaries. She doesn't get a lot of press in this forum, not that many do by name...but neither does my spine...and it's a hugely important part of my life. Without it, I'd be a limp noodle. Without Steff, I'd be the same.

I hope that you have a best friend too. They're, well...the best.

is love enough?

Two recent 'daily thoughts' from John Stott's ministry:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
May 1 - Faith and Love.
"Faith and love are signs of new birth (1 Jn. 5:1; 4:7). They are also commands. Some people object that faith and love are not amenable to discipline and are beyond the reach of any command. How can you tell me, they ask, to believe what I do not believe or love whom I do not love? The answer to this question lies in the nature of Christian faith and love. It is when faith is regarded as an intuition and love as an emotion that they appear to lie beyond the sphere of duty. But Christian faith is an obedient response to God's self-revelation in Christ. This revelation has a moral content. If people hate the light, it is because their deeds are evil (Jn. 3:19-21)...Similarly, Christian love belongs rather to the sphere of action than of emotion. It is not an involuntary, uncontrollable passion, but unselfish service undertaken by deliberate choice."

May 2 - A Sign of Authenticity.
"Love is as much a sign of Christian authenticity as is righteousness."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the proper definition of love, the May 2 statement becomes rather thought-provoking.

I'm not sure I'm ready to jump on board 100%, but it does speak to the frustration that many Christians feel with fellow brothers and sisters in Christ who do not share either the same personal convictions or non-essential doctrinal beliefs.



Quotes taken from "The Letters of John" (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries" rev. edn. Leicester: IVP, 1988), p. 164, 209. Excerpted from "Authentic Christianity", p. 219, by permission of InterVarsity Press.

maybe i should take a modeling class

In the last few years, I have embraced the fact that I have been "blessed" with the "Vaughan Family Curse" (shout out to all my mom's ancestors). This means, of course, that I have to also admit that I wasn't adopted (which is what I like to tease my mom about, but that's a whole other story).

The curse - which affects the lower lip - is present only in the women of the clan, and some are more affected than others. For example, there are some women who have been given the life-long enjoyment of a quirky (yet clearly cute) and slightly crooked bottom lip at all times. Others of us, myself included, only have fleeting moments of evidence. For example, the curse is most evident in me when I smile too big, which I seem to have a habit of doing quite a lot.

I'd like to think it's because I'm such a happy person (which I am), but I really think I just need professional help. I'm sure there's some modeling-world genius out there who can teach me to smile well, without looking like I just had a stroke! Note example below (click on the picture for a better view).



I mean, honestly...if anyone in this picture showed it to someone who doesn't know me, I think the first comment would be "Who's the stroke victim?" And, if, because this is a public site, somebody did a Google image search for "stroke victim", I'm sure this would be one of the photos that came up, and some random stranger would be thinking "How sweet for all those beautiful people to take that stroke victim girl out for dinner."

Mind you, I think it's a little bit endearing and cute, but I'd prefer that it didn't show up in 90% of the pictures that are ever taken of me. Management...that's what I need...management skills. All I want is to be able to "dial it down" without the assistance of a mirror...and that requires some training. You know, like that Friends episode where Joey tries to teach Chandler how to smile for his engagement pictures with Monica - "Look down...look down...look up!"

ah, the joys of home

LB. catha. paige. brandi. mom. dad. heather. micah. kristen. chad. greg. susan. tiff. michael. mike. carol. susannah. steven. todd. laurie. beth. dinah. robb. erika.

murray easter. reasonably-priced massages. nails and toes. mike's car. buying in dollars. the galleria. tj maxx. DSW. the saucer. section 108. lance. morgan. craig. adam.

central market. jose's dip. cheese enchiladas. american beef. free ice cream at jason's deli. the chocolate bar.

and last, but DEFINITELY not least:

he's off the hook

Since, in His infinite Wisdom, God ordained that some sweet soul would invent my beloved night-time sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever, so-I-can-rest medicine (aka NyQuil)...I think Mr. 44 is off the hook.

I'm by no means ready for a marathon (or a half-marathon for that matter), but I am feeling better.

Now, what's funny (strange and a little haha) is that I'm a little bit miffed that I don't have this excuse to be mad at my neighbor. I guess I wanted a 'legitimate' excuse to think meanly about him (actually, I think it's technically 'them', but I freely assume that the man is the one who pulled the parking faux pas). How horrible is THAT? [Yes, I know the "freely assume...man" bit is a whole other can of worms.]

Maybe what I should do is bake them some cookies when I come back from Houston and take them over and introduce myself. I'm sure all the door slamming and general loudness would be a lot less annoying (and frequent, even) if we had some sort of neighborly relationship which actually made them stop and think "Hey, I bet Dovie is asleep...we should be quiet in the hall!" or opened the door, so to speak, to a friendly "Hey...could you try and not slam the door at 2am on a Saturday night?" or "Hey...would you mind moving your car into its parking spot so I can get mine out?"

This is where I prove all of you who think I'm an extrovert wrong. The only reason I haven't done this before is that THEY ARE STRANGERS! The idea of proactive relationship development with strangers I'm not even sure I want to know TOTALLY WEARS ME OUT...and it even STRESSES ME OUT. See...told you I'm an introvert!

grr!!

I'm feeling slightly less than fabulous today, and if I DO catch a cold just in time to be MISERABLE on the flight back to Houston, I'm going to...just...well, I'm going to have REALLY MEAN THOUGHTS about Mr. 44.

So, I'm about as loaded up on OTC meds as one can be without being in danger of over-dosing, and I'm going to take it e-a-s-y today...I think if someone gave me an indian name today it would be "wanders in a daze" because I just feel so loopy!

Or maybe it would be "prays for a strong immune system", but somehow I don't think that one quite has the right ring to it.

parking garage mores

Normally, I drive to the gym. This is mostly due to realizing that I seem to be particularly susceptible to weather-related colds and such. In the winter months, even the 10 minute walk home is like running the gauntlet of poor health (especially when I’ve just spent the last hour or so working up a pretty good ‘glisten’).

On Sunday afternoon, when I went down to the basement to hop in the car and point it in the direction of Peak Fitness, I was greeted with a fairly annoying sight – my neighbour, who lives in flat #44, had blocked me in (#45) with his car! See Figure 1.



The first thing I thought of (no, it wasn’t to key his car!) was to wait around and see how long it took for him to come back and have a little chat with him about parking garage mores. But, after 2 minutes of waiting, I thought, “Forget this. It's nice out today...I’m going to walk to the gym,” so off I went, and 12 minutes later was happily installed on my favorite treadmill.

A little over an hour later, I emerged from the gym to POURING DOWN RAIN. So there really is something to that whole “April Showers…” thing. Lovely.

After waiting around for 5 minutes, I thought “Forget this…I’ll just jog to the train station, walk through the subway, and jog the rest of the way home. It will be over in less than 10 minutes.” And so it went. Only, once I emerged from the pedestrian subway on the other side of the train station, I realized it was now SLEET that I was being pelted with as I scurried home. Seriously! And it’s APRIL!

The next time Mr. 44 blocks me in…it’s going to get ugly.

just when you think you've seen it all...

...somebody proves you wrong with something like this.

Who BUYS stuff like that??

i loathe me

At one of his weekly tea-parties somebody asked Simeon:(1) 'What, Sir, do you consider the principal mark of regeneration?' It was a probing question. With the current popularity of the 'born-again movement', one wonders how the average evangelical believer would reply today. This was Simeon's answer: 'the very first and indispensable sign is self-loathing and abhorrence. Nothing short of this can be admitted as an evidence of a real change ... I want to see more of this humble, contrite, broken spirit amongst us. It is the very spirit that belongs to self-condemned sinners ... This sitting in the dust is most pleasing to God ... give me to be with a broken-hearted Christian, and I prefer his society to that of all the rest ... Were I now addressing to you my dying words, I should say nothing else but what I have just said. Try to live in this spirit of self-abhorrence, and let it habitually mark your life and conduct.'(2)

'Self-loathing', 'self-condemnation', 'self-abhorrence'. The words grate on modem ears. The contemporary craze is for a bigger and better self-image. We are exhorted on all sides to love ourselves, forgive ourselves, respect ourselves, assert ourselves. And to be sure, as in all heresies, there are a few grains of truth in this one. For we should gratefully affirm ourselves as creatures made in the image of God, and as children of God redeemed by Christ and indwelt by his Spirit. In this mercy of God our Creator and Saviour we are to rejoice greatly, and there is much exhortation to such joy in Simeon's sermons.

But to rejoice in God is one thing; to rejoice in ourselves is another. Self-congratulation and the worship of God are mutually incompatible. Those who have a high view of themselves always have a correspondingly low view of God.

Notes:

1. Charles Simeon (1758-1836) Minister of Holy Trinity Church, Cambridge, 1783-1836.
2. Quoted in William Carus (editor), "Memoirs of the Life of the Reverend Charles Simeon", London 1848. pp. 651f.

--From Introduction to "Evangelical Preaching" (Sermons of Charles Simeon) (Portland: Multnomah, 1986), p. xxxix.

Go 'Stros!

My boys started the season off well, and I'm beaming with joy this morning. You can read Alyson Footer's story here. I still have major episodes of jealousy about her job.

I have no joint ownership agreement with Drayton, but still lovingly refer to the team collectively as "my boys", although most who have ever attended a game with me know that, in singular reference, only Lance is really "my boy" and the only one for whom I whoop and holler like a proper redneck...because he LOVES baseball, and (oh, by the way) he's REALLY GOOD AT IT!

eat-walking...

...not to be confused with sleep-walking. Also nothing like "whistling while you work", because that would be complicated and would just get messy.

Eat-walking is a phenomenon I have see elsewhere, but it seems quite prevalent here in the UK. I see it everywhere I go, not just in London. And this weekend, it happened to me.

I went in to do a little shopping, and was trying to hit as many shops as possible before they all started closing down. There's this great little Mediterranean food walk-up vendor about halfway down Oxford Street from Oxford Circus to Marble Arch...so I knew all day where I was going to grub, but then I realized that the streets were packed as much as (if not more so than) at Christmas...and if I wasn't going to take a load off and have a seat, why stand around just eating?

So I'm outing myself...I did it. I went eat-walking. And somehow it made me feel a little bit like a real local, rather than a temporary local. Mind you, it's not my preferred eating style, but when the food is eat-walking-friendly, why not?