Ladies Who…Dare to Inspire

Posted on May 31, 2010 by MAL

As part of my monthly promise from April (click here to read about it), I am going to pick another lady who has inspired me this month to represent the ongoing award.

Kat from 3bedroombungalow.

Not only has she moved to a completely new country (she’s American and she now lives in England) with her two children, but she faces on her own it while her husband is deployed to war. It takes a heck of a lot of courage to face every day, to blog about it, to have such a wicked sense of humor about it and to watch as her children morph into tiny British people calling her “mum.” Readers are attracted to her blog, in my opinion, because she consistently writes really funny, real stories, she’s honest about her fears and giggles, and she has a unique point of view….that and her heart is humongous. I’ve never met her, but you can just tell that she has a whole lot to give.

Enjoy the award, lovely Kat! I look forward to meeting you this summer, I hope!

Ladies Who…Dare to Inspire

Posted on April 30, 2010 by MAL

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On a lighter note from my previous post, I’m getting on the band wagon, and creating my own award.

To kickstart the award ceremonies off, I’m going to announce a few people who have been on my mind.

There have been a few people who have truly made a difference in my life since I started this blog, and I would like to recognize them. They may not know they have; they may not have reached out personally, but in some way, these people have made me re-think my opinions, helped me to succeed in my own quests or just written such brilliant entries that it inspires me to better myself.

Every last Friday of the month from now on, I will be acknowledging one female blogger who I feel dares to inspire. She doesn’t have to just inspire me, she can inspire the world, one little girl or a dog. It’s up for debate.

Without any further ado, in no particular order, I’d like to pass on my award to the following people:

Mid-Atlantic English – Michelle reached out to me last month, and asked if I would join her on the journey that is Script Frenzy. Without her introduction, I wouldn’t have done it, or even known about it. Plus, she is so generous with her comments and feedback.

Smitten by Britain – Melissa is one of those women who I feel took me under wings when I was just starting out. Her love for Great Britain inspires others and her continual effort to put out great blog posts inspires me to keep my blog up to standard.

Bristolian Moments – Sabrina, don’t worry, you don’t have to share this if you don’t want to! She is just getting started, but I applaud her for starting her blog and sharing her incredible anecdotes, to emailing me when she first moved to this country to see if we could meet up and for being courageous in her attempts at making friends. She’s more ballsy than I!

A Literal Girl – Her grasp of the English language is only something I can aspire to one day. Her entries are always filled with such specific insights into everyday life, you wonder how she notices such seemingly mundane moments and turns them into …well, magic. She showed me around her town of Oxford and took us under her wings. And, at the age of 23, I know she’ll do alright for herself!

Erika Lopez – A monster girl. She is gutsy, ballsy and has opened her heart to the me and the world like no woman I have ever met. She has just started her own publishing house, and has so much in the hearth right now, you just have to go look for yourself. Incredibly talented writer, artist and woman. The way she manipulates words leaves me breathless.

Seattlite Imagery – Only just getting to know Alisha, but she and her husband have made the plunge and are official world travelers. Since that is where Jock and I are headed, I look to her blog for beautiful stories, insights and plain old ideas for my own life. She is also writing a book (I guess that’s what we unemployed gypsies tend to do!), and she exudes light and love.

RULES:

There are none!

If you’d like to pass this award forward, feel free. Otherwise, just go on and gloat.

(Also, if you do post it, it would be fantastic if you could give me a link back!)

Making Friends Abroad

Posted on January 6, 2010 by MAL

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As I have such close friends back home, being away from them is always hard. I did it once in Paris, but again, I was with other Americans who I didn’t have to try that hard with. Being in England, though seemingly easy, was quite tough at first to feel like I fit in. I do tend to blurt out random abrupt direct things at the most inopportune times, and that can be a turn off. Plus, if you’re in your home country, it can be weird to be friends with a foreigner, and honestly, I don’t blame people for not wanting to try to befriend me. We all remember the foreign kid at school. Well, that’s me!

Plus, I think I’m actually a natural loner.

Others might disagree, but I think, naturally, I am. I make a real effort to be outgoing. I think if I just let myself go, I could easily be in the corner most of the time watching others interact with others. Also, if I let myself think too long and hard about meeting new people, going out with big groups or being the center of attention, I get panicky. So, I make myself not think about it and push through…after all, that’s what you gotta do in life. Push through the things that scare you the most, right?

Mostly all the jobs I have ever had has meant me being alone for the better part of the day. And even as I get older, again, I’m straying away from acting and feeling more comfortable with being alone on my laptop writing about characters.

So, why am I writing about being a friendless old outcast?

Well, I was recently asked to guest blog on the illustrious Melissa’s Smitten by Britain blog, and we came up with a post about how I started a ladies group in England as a foreigner. I was a member of one in Los Angeles, and found it to be one of the most fulfilling things I did whilst I was there.

So, if you’re like me – a lonely miserable expat who is in dire need of friends (just kidding!), then start your own group! I swear there is nothing like getting together with a group of women to lift your spirits. These women have become true friends, and I’m so happy they agreed to come hang out every month. I didn’t even have to pay them!

READ MY GUEST BLOG POST HERE!

Turkey for Twenty Four

Posted on November 20, 2009 by MAL

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I have signed up to do another half marathon. The Bath Half. Eek.

Somehow, this is in no way as frightening to me as the prospect of cooking an entire turkey for 24 people. 24!! Ten plus ten plus four! Twenty Four!!

Because that is what I brilliantly signed up to do.

In a moment of clarity last month at our Ladies Who… meeting, between the glugs of red wine and the presentation of vibrators (no, it wasn’t some weird sexual ritual we do at our ladies group…although I’m pretty sure that’s what my boyfriend and all his friends are thinking goes on..it was Ann Summers), I had volunteered to host the next evening in November. Not only for Ladies, but also for Gentlemen.

It made sense.

We hold our meetings on the last Thursday of every month, and in America, the last Thursday of the month of November is…that’s right folks…Turkey Day!

No one was holding a knife to my neck saying “You must help America conquer the world by stuffing turkey down 24 British people’s throats, and sharing our tradition!” No, in fact, I’m pretty sure no one even asked me what Thanksgiving was, nor asked me if I could bring our weird tradition of, as Jock calls it, “stuffing-ourselves-silly-a-month-before-Christmas-just-like-we-do-at-Christmas-time-but-with-no-presents” to the British Isles.

In fact, it’s become quite difficult for me to even describe to questioning Britons why we actually do it.

I mean, why do we do it to ourselves? That’s what I want to ask my fellow Americans on this first Thanksgiving away from home. Why?? Not why like, “Why could we possibly want to get together with family and have a nice meal?” But more like “Why does this holiday still actually exist?”

The pilgrims and the Native Americans never got along. They definitely never had a big dinner on Plymouth rock (OK, apparently they did have a dinner – there goes my knowledge of history!), and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t really care if we continued this tradition or not. When I so naively invited these 24 people to my house for this evening of Turkey, Cranberry sauce, Stuffing and Pumpkin Pie, and a few did venture to ask me what the day was all about, the only thing I could muster was “It’s the day we give thanks…I guess?”

And, that seems like a pretty good explanation. Wouldn’t you say?

So, they don’t know it yet, but I’m planning on making the evening even more uncomfortable than it already will be with 24 people crammed in our small house, badly cooked turkey and not enough cutlery or places to sit by asking them all to give a reason why they are thankful.

I will ask for silence.

I will ask that everyone take a moment, and then go around the house and share what they have to be thankful for. After all, it’s what my mother would want me to do.

And, inside I will be giggling wildly. Oh, they’re going to hate it! I mean, it’s bad enough at home in America where we’re supposedly good at sharing emotion and deep thoughts. But here? Here?! They would rather give up such British institutions as Tea or Cadbury…oh wait, they’re already giving up that one…or the Queen! Yes, the Queen!, they would rather give up the Queen than share deep emotions.

Ok, I’m exaggerating. That’s going a bit far.

I would never subject my poor friends to such cruelness I had to go through as a child.

I’d just ask them to write down what they’re thankful for on a piece of paper and put it in a bowl. And, later, I will pull that bowl out and read them all aloud. Or write them all down and email them in a mass email. Or just post it on here. Or make billboards and hang in front of said person’s house…

_______________________________________________

Back to the turkey I’m trying to cook. How did my mom do it? How do moms around the world do it? I’m having panic attacks lying in bed at night thinking about hosting a party for this many…

Let’s be honest. I had never cooked an entire meal for more than two…count them…one, two…people before last year. But, being the Lady Who Lunches, I found it was my duty (haha, I said duty) to learn how to cook. Not do as most Ladies Who Lunch would do and hire a personal chef, but no, I wanted to cook. Because, as much as I do love stir fry and the ease of flipping meat and oil in a pan, after two solid months of Jock and I eating the same combination of three ingredients (i.e. meat, onions, peppers), I decided there needed to be a change.

So, yes, now I have had three, I would go so far as to say, successful dinner parties since then – for FOUR people. FOUR. Not TWENTY FOUR. But FOUR.

And yes, I have ventured out of stir fry into such realms as Jerk Chicken, Mango-filled Cream Puffs and Asian Five-Spiced Chocolate Cake, and besides the Chocolate Cake, all has come out well.

And, even though stir fry was a drastic change from my single days of popcorn and wine for dinner, skipping lunch and instant oatmeal for breakfast, cooking for 24 people seems a bit more extreme coming from small dinner parties, doesn’t it?

But none of you will feel the least amount of pity for me when I tell you that I have help. Gasp! I know. I confess it. I had to dish out some of the sides to the other ladies. I couldn’t do it all. Sob. I had to pass the baton to the others. Cringe. And here is the final blow – I am not wonderwoman. In case any of you were in doubt. I am not WonderWoman. All that fan mail gone to waste…

This Thursday, I am a Lady Who… asks for help when I need it.

And, I seriously can’t wait for Thanksgiving. I feel like I did when I was a little girl and got my newest Roald Dahl book for my birthday, staring at it knowing that it would be filled with joy, adventure, strange and sometimes off-colour English humour, and best of all, fantastic stories. I wonder what the others will think…

Oh, but one more thing. To put added pressure on myself, I asked all the ladies if they would read my first 100 pages of my newly edited book for feedback. I’m finished editing page 50. Only 50 pages to go in a week!

So, what are you thankful for?

P.S. Stay tuned for a tea giveaway….

“I Am a Lady Who…” Thursdays

Posted on September 10, 2009 by MAL

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I’ll go first.

I am a Lady Who… had a dog named Ari.

I was nine going on ten. I wanted a dog. My mother didn’t want me to have a dog. “A dog lasts for many years,” she said, ” and I don’t think you realize the amount of responsibility it takes to care for and pay for a dog.”

I wouldn’t have it. I annoyed her. I begged her. I wouldn’t shut the f@&# up for days, weeks, months. Who knows how long my poor mother had to adore the annoying pre-pubescent chubby bandana-wearing freak constantly badgering her about a dog. “I want a dog. Pllllease, can we have a dog?”

So, my mother, being the ever-so-wily mother that she was, came up with a plan to shut me up, and hopefully stomp out any hope of me getting a dog. “If you are truly serious about this dog, and you want to learn the type of commitment that is needed to raise one, then you must raise $1,000,” she asserted.

This is where I smile, jump up and down, and throw my arms around her wonderful little self. Not quite the reaction she was looking for. I was determined, and now I had a goal. Not things you want to arm those chubby cheeks with if you don’t want something to happen.

Six months of shoveling snow, raking leaves, mowing lawns, pet-sitting (yes, I started a pet sitting business), and I had not only lost some of my baby fat, but I had raised $500 to the chagrin of my mother.

She knew it was only a matter of time before I had raised it all, which meant a matter of time that she would be stuck with this dog when I left for college. So, the annoying little girl got what she was after!

Preferably my mother had two other requests – the dog couldn’t bark and couldn’t shed. “Ummmm, isn’t that what having a dog is all about?” You may ask…

Would that deter me? Oh no. I went to the library and found out that there were numerous dogs that didn’t shed, but only one that didn’t bark. A beautiful Basenji. Beautiful dogs, but hideously expensive and temperamental. So, we decided on a Cairn Terrier – my best friend Courtney had one, and so did Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, so it seemed good enough for us. They rarely barked, barely shed, and were intelligent, energetic, and loyal.

We found a breeder in the newspaper. I turned 11, and she was delivered to my house. I named her Ariana (meaning silver, for the silver streak on her back) Aubrey of Willow. Because she was a pure bred, she needed a proper name! Duh! And Willow Avenue was the street we lived on. We called her Ari (pronounced Airy).

She was a defiant little dog. She trained easily, but she had a habit of peeing inside just to spite you. She would walk right by your side on the leash just to the point when you trusted she wouldn’t run away, and as soon as you undid her leash, she was off. She protected you from other dogs twice her size.

Then Ralph happened. Ralph was my sister’s new dog. Amanda didn’t have to jump through hoops to get her. Yes, Ralph was a her and a bassett hound. Ralph dominated Ari, and I don’t think she was ever the same since. She became depressed.

Then, I took her with me across the country to California. She was definitely never the same since then. She would hide from people, she became a recluse.

Finally, eleven years had passed, and I couldn’t take care of her anymore. I was in my early twenties, and not as fit as a mother as I was when I was thirteen. My mother took her, and Ari livened up. Mom said she knew this day would come and she dreaded it.

But, she fell more in love with Ari than probably even I. She has been by her side for the last five years everyday, and she was her buddy. She walked her everyday, she fed her, and as Ari became more and more deaf, blind and mute (ironically exactly how she would have preferred her to be as a puppy) – my mother became her mother.

This Tuesday, my mother put her down. She was going on 16 years old, and very old for a dog. She had no quality of life. My mother was the one who was there with her as she was laid to rest.

I didn’t think I would be this emotional when I heard Ari was gone. I hadn’t been with her in five years, but she was with me for more of my life than she wasn’t. My mom and I cried together on the phone.

Thanks mom for letting me get a dog. I am a Lady who had a dog named Ari. (Please excuse the ridiculous picture below – I take no responsibility for the bow on my dog’s head…but she is cute, huh?)