Saving Money…or Not

Posted on April 22, 2009 by MAL

This weekend our one and only goal was to stay in and save money seeing as Jocko got his first pay packet April 24th, and we had went all out the weekend before. We failed that goal when his mate called him to let him know he had two extra tickets to see the FA Cup Semi-Final at Wembley Stadium in London: Manchester United vs. Everton. Jock, being the most devoted football fan I’ve ever met (though I’m sure it’s not that uncommon in this country), couldn’t pass them up. Plus, we rationalized that we had eaten in every day last week, and spent Friday and Saturday night without spending a dime.

I could get a day out in London with my new friend Gemma, and he could go with her boyfriend to the game, then we could spend the night at their place thus saving the money for a hotel room. Now that we have a car, it’s really easy to jet on up to London two hours away. So, first thing Sunday morning we headed to Londontown. It started off really hazy and grey in the 40’s Fahrenheit, but as we got closer, the sun started burning off the clouds. It was an absolutely gorgeous day. I don’t think Gemma and I stopped talking the entire day.

We all had breakfast together in the morning at a cute little cafe around the corner from their apartment in Putney, South London. We climbed on the tube, and let them continue on their way to Wembley. It was Shakespeare’s birthday and there were supposed to be lots of festivities around the Globe theatre on the South Bank of the Thames. When we got off, the merriment was overwhelming. There were clowns with balloons, paintings playing the violin, dragons bicycling in place, and Charlie Chaplins drawing crowds. Most of the time we were so entrenched in conversation that we didn’t notice the street acts.

Painting Strumming Guitar

After I started having severe stomach pains from it being close to that time of month, we decided to walk towards a pharmacy. Seeing as we couldn’t find any pharmacies open, we stopped in a pub instead. That pub led to another, which led to one that I had found on my last trip to London with my friend Fink near Embankment Station. It’s underground and is made from what seems to be a sewer, with curved ceilings and a faint damp smell. But with the candles and the wine, it seems so romantic. Gemma and I had some bread and cheese and a couple of glasses of wine, and then made our way back nearer her home to finish watching the football game.

Man United lost, and we were very sad, especially after seeing the Everton fans shouting in the bar. I tried to shout back, but they remained steadfast in their team alliance. Gemma and I decided the best way to deal with our boyfriends inevitable foul moods when they returned was to drink more. So, drink more we did. Unfortunately, when the boyfriends returned to us, they were very sober, and not too upset at the result of the game. Apparently they knew it would happen when they saw the line up. Oh well, a good day in London it was, and ended with a nice Chinese take away.

Wanting What you Have

Posted on April 14, 2009 by MAL

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Life is starting to make sense again. I feel creativity flowing, and for the first time, settled. I never ever thought I could be happy living in a suburb in a house. This single thought used to haunt my sleep in my late teens and early twenties – made me feel squeemish, trapped, and like life would be ended if this were to happen. I thought that city folk were the most cavalier and sophisticated. Now, I’m wondering if country folk were the ones that had it right after all – a simple life filled with friends, land, family and lots of love. Perhaps the suburbians are half way closer to country folk.

I’m starting to feel that happiness and simplicity I felt in 1990 when Courtney, Lindsey, Amanda and I would bake cakes for the elderly on their birthdays, and cart it to the nursing homes with our wheel barrel and their dog Rosie at our feet; we’d go back home and play chinese jump rope til the sun went down over Piccadilly Road; and then we’d teach each other dances to the tune of New Kids on the Block and Paula Abdul to show our parents on New Year’s Eve under our Spice pseudonyms. We were the first Spice Girls with names like Cinnamon, Sugar Baby, Pepper, and Ginger, only our group name was the Flamoochies. In hind sight, perhaps The Spice Girls would have been better suited. Who knew we were so ahead of our time?

I woke up this morning with the Los Angeles sun only a finite memory, and England clouds my new best friend. There is something that becomes so clear when clouds are on the horizon, just breaking the sun splashes up with the smell of rain. When the sun is always imminent, you have the thought that there’s always tomorrow and why do what you said you were going to do today when you could do it the next day? When there are clouds following your every step, it keeps you on your toes that you never know when you will see the next ray of sunlight and have to appreciate what you have today. At least this is how I feel right now. Someone said this weekend – Happiness is not having what you want, but wanting what you have – this makes so much sense because I feel like I can finally understand.

We went to the quintessential English wedding this weekend. It was in a castle – the Clearwell Castle to be exact. It was in the country side, and yes, women wore big unseemly hats. It had been raining all week, but luckily she got the one day where the sun shown all day. I even got little rosy cheeks! There is something being in the country that just makes me alive. The air was so fresh and crisp. Every wedding after this will be spoiled because of my very first English wedding in a castle. It’s the stuff American little girls dreams are made of!

The King’s Hotel, but Fit for a Queen

Posted on April 2, 2009 by MAL

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The King’s Hotel (previously King’s Arm Hotel)

I had to leave the hotel room to let the maids come in and do their cleaning bit. Amanda (my sister) and I learned this when getting a hotel in Bristol this February – maids here do not touch your things! This could be a majorly good thing, because who really wants a maid to touch their dirty clothes, or rummage through their suitcase, right? I completely see the point. On the other hand, when you can be as messy as Amanda and I can be; part of the joy of staying in a hotel is that you can leave your clothes strewn all over the place, only to come back to find them all neatly folded in a pile on top of your made bed. Not in England! They will leave those pajama bottoms on the floor where you left them next to your dirty socks.

All that said, it has made me learn to get in the habit of always picking up after myself. And, that we are very spoiled in America. That being said, there’s nothing like staying in a hotel that is over 500 years old, and imagining what it must have been like with the horses and carriages outside and women in their petticoats. It was a 16th Century Coaching Inn!! I don’t even know what that means!! But it just sounds cool!! Not to mention the pure marble bathrooms!

Early 20th Century Version of Hotel

Anyway, as I was getting back from my walk, and about to enter my newly cleaned room, a couple walked by, and the woman in her best posh English voice asked, “Can you tell us where room 113 is? You do work here, don’t you?”

My first reaction was to slap her across the face, but then I thought that would be a bit harsh, so I just politely said, “I don’t work here, but you can find a sign right here with the room numbers on it.”

She just mumbled quickly “Oh, sorry,” and quickly twiddled by me. Toodle Pip!!

As I entered my room, I started thinking why that bothered me so much. What does that say about me if I get so easily offended by what someone thinks of me, or that I look so down upon others who do work in hotels? I had to reassess my view on this.

So, I made myself a cup of coffee, and wrote this blog. I think I have come to the conclusion that it was actually her that I was so offended by, and if I had actually worked in the hotel and she came up to me that I still would have thought she was a twit.

I’m glad I reflected on that.