I've been here long enough to start picking up on things I miss (and some things I don't.) No, 9 days isn't a long time, but it's enough time for things to start to sink in.
1. I miss my dog. Stuart has been by my side since the day I got him, and it's been tough not having him here. Granted, it's all for the better that he's not (at least right now,) but that doesn't mean I don't miss him. I miss his cuddles and his kisses, and even though he would drive me crazy come potty time, I miss taking him for little walks here and there.
2. I miss my nieces, Kotey and Callie. I talked to Kotey on MSN a couple nights ago, and I teared up when I saw her. She's been my little compadre since I moved back home, and I miss her company. She can be a bit of a handful at times, but I love her like she's my own, and can't wait until she's able to come visit me here. I miss Callie's laughs and smiles. She's one of the goofiest kiddos I've ever met, and her smile is incredibly contagious. I have a 10-minute video on my iPod (that I keep watching) of her just shaking a Wal-Mart bag. It's the most simple pleasure, but one of the funniest things to watch.
3. I miss having a clothes dryer. I am limited in how many clothes I can wash at any given time because there's only so much room for me to hang them to dry. It's rather frustrating, given how accustomed I am to having the luxury of a machine to do it for me -- faster and with heat. I'm seriously contemplating utilizing the laundromat around the corner; it's ultimately a choice of walking back and forth with clean, dry clothes, or waiting a day and a half for one load to dry...hmmm...
4. I miss American food. Don't get me wrong, English food has not left me unsatisfied, but there is a difference in flavor and fulfillment. Phil and I had Pizza Hut for dinner. I'm used to our Pizza Hut's tangy, zesty pizza sauce.....this pizza sauce was more sweet, almost like spaghetti sauce. It wasn't completely undesirable, but it really wasn't the same.
5. I miss free refills. This "sip and make it last" garbage is for the birds. I'm a guzzler, through and through!!
Now, things I don't really miss that much:
1. Driving. I have grown to like the public transport system here. And the walking...I have no excuse not to get some exercise. I still feel like I'm on track to lose at least 30 pounds before I return in July; possibly more.
2. Drama. I'm glad I'm away from it all. I love my family dearly, but I need my space.
3. Relying on technology to talk to my Philly. It gets old, people. Real fast.
I knew there would be things I would miss and things I wouldn't before I even left the states, but that doesn't mean I can't still feel this way. More than anything, I'm just so happy to finally have Phil by my side. There's nothing like sharing life with the man I was made to be with. Everything is so much more wonderful, and my life finally has a purpose. He completes me in every way, shape, and form, and I love him more and more every day. I can easily give up everything I have ever known if it means I can spend the rest of my days with him. He has made this entire journey worth every second of heartache, headache, and waiting, and I will cherish every bit of time I have with him.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Liverpool or Bust
Yep, we went to Beatletown, which also happens to be Phil's hometown. Don't get too excited -- we didn't have loads of time to go sight-seeing. This visit was strictly to visit Phil's friends and family.
The train ride up was beautiful. Honestly, the English countryside I saw resembled a lot of rural Kentucky's countryside, except in England, it's sheep instead of cattle grazing in the fields. It was overcast, but the grass was a beautiful kelly green -- not the teal bluegrass I'm used to seeing.
Our first stop was to a town called Runcorn, which is a little villa about 10 minutes outside of Liverpool, where Phil's Godfather, Jimmy, lives. Now THAT is a man who can tell a story. I never had a grandfather figure in my life, but I could easily see Jimmy as one. In other parts of the city, I also met Phil's mom, her boyfriend, Phil's sister, her boyfriend, and several of Phil's childhood/teenage friends.
Liverpool is more laidback than London. There is more time to enjoy things but fewer jobs to support the cost of living. It's right along the River Mersey, which brings in a pretty chilly breeze...much colder than what the Ohio River brings us.
I had a fantastic time meeting everyone and shared tons of laughs. I had a grand time explaining some of the differences between England and America in terms of daily lifestyle idiosyncracies. For example, if I asked for two drinks and flashed up 2 with my fingers, palm-side in, people in America would just think I were asking for two drinks. In England, that means "Fuck off." If you want to ask for 2 of something by hand, you have to do it palm-side out or you will highly insult someone.
We even compared grocery store receipts. It was hard for them to grasp our concept of sales tax. In England, all the tax is included in the price you see on the shelf. So, if you see a tag for 3.99 GBP, then you go to the register and you pay 3.99 GBP, no more/no less.
Probably the biggest difference between English social events and American social events is that the English revolve life around tea, whereas Americans revolve life around food. If I drank as much tea as everyone offered, I'd never eat again....then again, that may not be a terrible idea! Just with the lifestyle change alone, I'm probably due to lose 40-50 pounds before I return in July.
Anywho, I better get to the big reveal. I told you guys that your standards were too high, because Phil and I have not gotten married, I'm definitely not pregnant, and no, I have not pooped on myself in public. My idea of a big reveal is that the grocery store cashiers are required to sit down on the job. THAT'S jaw-dropping news. Cashiers can flippin' sit down for 8 hours! Whodathunkit?
I know, I know...there aren't any pictures. Cut a girl a break, will ya? We'll be back to Liverpool in May, and we'll be there for longer than 3 days, so I'll be able to get to some of the sights. I won't leave you in the dark forever -- promise.
The train ride up was beautiful. Honestly, the English countryside I saw resembled a lot of rural Kentucky's countryside, except in England, it's sheep instead of cattle grazing in the fields. It was overcast, but the grass was a beautiful kelly green -- not the teal bluegrass I'm used to seeing.
Our first stop was to a town called Runcorn, which is a little villa about 10 minutes outside of Liverpool, where Phil's Godfather, Jimmy, lives. Now THAT is a man who can tell a story. I never had a grandfather figure in my life, but I could easily see Jimmy as one. In other parts of the city, I also met Phil's mom, her boyfriend, Phil's sister, her boyfriend, and several of Phil's childhood/teenage friends.
Liverpool is more laidback than London. There is more time to enjoy things but fewer jobs to support the cost of living. It's right along the River Mersey, which brings in a pretty chilly breeze...much colder than what the Ohio River brings us.
I had a fantastic time meeting everyone and shared tons of laughs. I had a grand time explaining some of the differences between England and America in terms of daily lifestyle idiosyncracies. For example, if I asked for two drinks and flashed up 2 with my fingers, palm-side in, people in America would just think I were asking for two drinks. In England, that means "Fuck off." If you want to ask for 2 of something by hand, you have to do it palm-side out or you will highly insult someone.
We even compared grocery store receipts. It was hard for them to grasp our concept of sales tax. In England, all the tax is included in the price you see on the shelf. So, if you see a tag for 3.99 GBP, then you go to the register and you pay 3.99 GBP, no more/no less.
Probably the biggest difference between English social events and American social events is that the English revolve life around tea, whereas Americans revolve life around food. If I drank as much tea as everyone offered, I'd never eat again....then again, that may not be a terrible idea! Just with the lifestyle change alone, I'm probably due to lose 40-50 pounds before I return in July.
Anywho, I better get to the big reveal. I told you guys that your standards were too high, because Phil and I have not gotten married, I'm definitely not pregnant, and no, I have not pooped on myself in public. My idea of a big reveal is that the grocery store cashiers are required to sit down on the job. THAT'S jaw-dropping news. Cashiers can flippin' sit down for 8 hours! Whodathunkit?
I know, I know...there aren't any pictures. Cut a girl a break, will ya? We'll be back to Liverpool in May, and we'll be there for longer than 3 days, so I'll be able to get to some of the sights. I won't leave you in the dark forever -- promise.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Friday, Friday, We Got Down on Friday
Friday was the first full day I had in London. I woke up still feeling the effects of the crochitty biddy from the day before, and was a little down in the dumps and hadn't been able to find my sense of belonging just yet. We got our sorry butts out of bed around 10 a.m. (yeah, it's a hard knock life) so we could get ready to meet Katie, one of Phil's former co-workers, for lunch at KFC. There are some things about KFC you need to know...
1. There are ZERO mashed potatoes and gravy and biscuits. Zip, zilch, nada, nil, NOTHING resembling anything like them. It's really strange because you all know we Americans only step foot in KFC for those yummy goody bits. We could care less about the chicken (don't try to act like I'm alone in this principle!)
2. Instead of mashed potatoes and gravy and biscuits, they serve chips. To us, that would be fries...but their fries are most similar to Wendy's fries. They are cut, cooked, and salted almost the same exact way.
3. They serve breakfast. Yep, you read it right...breakfast. You can get a latte and a bacon roll (picture a Pillsbury crescent roll folded up with bacon inside) for less than 2 GBP (about $3.) I haven't had it yet, but it blew my mind.
We had a really nice time with Katie, so I have officially made my first friend in the UK.
Phil thought we should walk off the big chicken lunch we had, so we took a stroll down Oxford Street. If I remember New York correctly, it was much like 5th Avenue. We took a look inside Selfridge's, which has a bit of everything, including a little cafe restaurant that was the equivalent to the Starbucks inside Barnes & Noble. Apparently, it's the norm for department stores to have a cafe rest area. Maybe America should take note.
I didn't buy anything because I was really just soaking in every bit of my surroundings; I have no doubt I'll be back, so shopping won't be a problem.
We made our way down to Walthamstow Market, one of the large street markets in London. I had never been to one before, but it was a lot like what I had seen in movies and pictures. The street was lined with tall white gazebo tents, each harboring different items for sale: fresh vegetables, pots and pans, undies, lingerie, and hosiery, books, music, clothes, fabrics, threads, and just about anything else you can imagine.
Our next stop was the mall adjacent to the street market. It was a nice little place, but honestly, it reminded me a little of the Mountain Mall in Gatlinburg; the one in front of Ripley's Aquarium at the end of the strip. It was cleaner and busier, but the environment was very reminiscent of that little hole in the wall.
By then I had walked my arse off for the second day in a row, so as you can imagine, my calf muscles were burning and my lungs were ready to give up. I finally convinced Phil that it was time to go home and chill the bleep out....especially since we had to wake up at 5 a.m. to get to our train departing for Liverpool the next morning.
We stopped at a grocery store on the way home to grab a bite for dinner. As it turns out, they had some ready-made sandwiches and deli items that turned out to be really super yummy. I had a roast chicken bacon club sandwich that was to die for. I'm always relatively skeptical of grocery or convenience store pre-packaged sandwiches, but ours were fresh and tasty. Oooohhh and for dessert, we had these eclair-type doughnuts, but instead of chocolate on top, they had strawberry jelly inside and fresh whipped cream overflowing the top. Holy pastry...heaven in my mouth. Don't worry: we're going to buy some more, so I'll post a picture next time. You'll be jealous. Count on it.
We finally called it a night....I had absolutely no idea how crazy the weekend was going to be....stay tuned.
1. There are ZERO mashed potatoes and gravy and biscuits. Zip, zilch, nada, nil, NOTHING resembling anything like them. It's really strange because you all know we Americans only step foot in KFC for those yummy goody bits. We could care less about the chicken (don't try to act like I'm alone in this principle!)
2. Instead of mashed potatoes and gravy and biscuits, they serve chips. To us, that would be fries...but their fries are most similar to Wendy's fries. They are cut, cooked, and salted almost the same exact way.
3. They serve breakfast. Yep, you read it right...breakfast. You can get a latte and a bacon roll (picture a Pillsbury crescent roll folded up with bacon inside) for less than 2 GBP (about $3.) I haven't had it yet, but it blew my mind.
We had a really nice time with Katie, so I have officially made my first friend in the UK.
Phil thought we should walk off the big chicken lunch we had, so we took a stroll down Oxford Street. If I remember New York correctly, it was much like 5th Avenue. We took a look inside Selfridge's, which has a bit of everything, including a little cafe restaurant that was the equivalent to the Starbucks inside Barnes & Noble. Apparently, it's the norm for department stores to have a cafe rest area. Maybe America should take note.
I didn't buy anything because I was really just soaking in every bit of my surroundings; I have no doubt I'll be back, so shopping won't be a problem.
We made our way down to Walthamstow Market, one of the large street markets in London. I had never been to one before, but it was a lot like what I had seen in movies and pictures. The street was lined with tall white gazebo tents, each harboring different items for sale: fresh vegetables, pots and pans, undies, lingerie, and hosiery, books, music, clothes, fabrics, threads, and just about anything else you can imagine.
Our next stop was the mall adjacent to the street market. It was a nice little place, but honestly, it reminded me a little of the Mountain Mall in Gatlinburg; the one in front of Ripley's Aquarium at the end of the strip. It was cleaner and busier, but the environment was very reminiscent of that little hole in the wall.
By then I had walked my arse off for the second day in a row, so as you can imagine, my calf muscles were burning and my lungs were ready to give up. I finally convinced Phil that it was time to go home and chill the bleep out....especially since we had to wake up at 5 a.m. to get to our train departing for Liverpool the next morning.
We stopped at a grocery store on the way home to grab a bite for dinner. As it turns out, they had some ready-made sandwiches and deli items that turned out to be really super yummy. I had a roast chicken bacon club sandwich that was to die for. I'm always relatively skeptical of grocery or convenience store pre-packaged sandwiches, but ours were fresh and tasty. Oooohhh and for dessert, we had these eclair-type doughnuts, but instead of chocolate on top, they had strawberry jelly inside and fresh whipped cream overflowing the top. Holy pastry...heaven in my mouth. Don't worry: we're going to buy some more, so I'll post a picture next time. You'll be jealous. Count on it.
We finally called it a night....I had absolutely no idea how crazy the weekend was going to be....stay tuned.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
I Made It!
Oh, where to start! I made it to England. Finally. Barely. The flights went off without a hitch, except for the air pressure murdering my left ear. It helped to have my Philly by my side the entire time, but the journey itself was wonderful...pretty much like riding a bus.What happened after I got here, however, was not so wonderful.
I had to go through the UK Border Agency to get my entry to the UK approved. Well, I must have gotten the wrong woman on the wrong day, because what normally would have been a simple Q&A turned into an interrogation and a full luggage search. By "full," I mean "unpack and repack in front of everyone at Heathrow." Yeah, undies and unmentionables included....The woman apparently thought I was out to rip the country off or something, because as soon as I told her that Phil and I met online, she turned on her bitch switch. It was obvious that she thought I was trying to enter the UK just to disappear as an illegal alien. After an hour of basic public humiliation, they finally let me enter the country. I had to pull a trolley with ALL of my luggage up and down 3 flights of stairs twice...yeah, not a good start.
Then there's the train trip. As it turns out, London Heathrow is on the complete OPPOSITE side of London as our house...I'm sure you can imagine Phil and I trying to keep hold of 4 large pieces of luggage plus our own carry-on bags for a nearly 2-hour train ride. Oh, then there's the walking. And more walking. And MORE walking. With luggage. Up a hill. It probably doesn't sound bad, but I'm American. The furthest I am used to walking is the length of a Wal-Mart Supercenter. My feet hurt.
Phil and I were able to spend some time with his boys, which was a good time. I took a nap while they played on their PlayStation for a couple hours, then we headed to a nice little pub for dinner. The atmosphere is so authentic; rich wood tables with the history of the town framed on the walls. It was a very nice, laidback environment...no hosts, no waiters up your ass rushing you through the menu, just you and your table and however much time you need. You look at the menu, go order what you want, pay for it, then wait for it to show up at your table. I had the most wonderful Tomato-Basil soup with two nice, soft pieces of poppy seed bread, and the most beautiful hot chocolate for dessert.
So now we're back at the house; I'm frantically trying to finish this post before my laptop dies...I haven't bought plug adapters yet, but that's on tomorrow's agenda. I promise the posts will keep coming, and pictures will accompany them, but today was just a hell of a traumatic day, and I need to sleep. Goodnight, dear friends.
I had to go through the UK Border Agency to get my entry to the UK approved. Well, I must have gotten the wrong woman on the wrong day, because what normally would have been a simple Q&A turned into an interrogation and a full luggage search. By "full," I mean "unpack and repack in front of everyone at Heathrow." Yeah, undies and unmentionables included....The woman apparently thought I was out to rip the country off or something, because as soon as I told her that Phil and I met online, she turned on her bitch switch. It was obvious that she thought I was trying to enter the UK just to disappear as an illegal alien. After an hour of basic public humiliation, they finally let me enter the country. I had to pull a trolley with ALL of my luggage up and down 3 flights of stairs twice...yeah, not a good start.
Then there's the train trip. As it turns out, London Heathrow is on the complete OPPOSITE side of London as our house...I'm sure you can imagine Phil and I trying to keep hold of 4 large pieces of luggage plus our own carry-on bags for a nearly 2-hour train ride. Oh, then there's the walking. And more walking. And MORE walking. With luggage. Up a hill. It probably doesn't sound bad, but I'm American. The furthest I am used to walking is the length of a Wal-Mart Supercenter. My feet hurt.
Phil and I were able to spend some time with his boys, which was a good time. I took a nap while they played on their PlayStation for a couple hours, then we headed to a nice little pub for dinner. The atmosphere is so authentic; rich wood tables with the history of the town framed on the walls. It was a very nice, laidback environment...no hosts, no waiters up your ass rushing you through the menu, just you and your table and however much time you need. You look at the menu, go order what you want, pay for it, then wait for it to show up at your table. I had the most wonderful Tomato-Basil soup with two nice, soft pieces of poppy seed bread, and the most beautiful hot chocolate for dessert.
So now we're back at the house; I'm frantically trying to finish this post before my laptop dies...I haven't bought plug adapters yet, but that's on tomorrow's agenda. I promise the posts will keep coming, and pictures will accompany them, but today was just a hell of a traumatic day, and I need to sleep. Goodnight, dear friends.
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