Random ramblings from the Texan in London.

Today, I look hot. I say this because yesterday, I was frumpalicious. I mean, like Tweedledee in a dress, but without the stupid hat. Not attractive. I've always thought I was born in the wrong era. Since my youth, I've been compared (unfavourably) to the long, lithe, tanned limbs of the girls in the magazines. I've never been thin, I've always been "healthy". Unless I was "just plain fat" which is what I'm hefting around now. *lol* Since Rubenesque isn't the done thing, and since the one thing the doctor keeps harping at me over is that excess baggage aggravates hypermobility, I'm taking the bull by the horns and *gasp* starting an exercise regime. A couple of workmates and I are going to join the little gym around the corner from our office, and I'm going to start swimming on a regular basis. No impact, full body, cardio and all... I'm already tired just thinking about it. *lol* That said, I've already taken steps ...

Now stop that, I know where your mind went. I refer, of course, to the most harmonious of undertakings, the Hard Rock Calling concert on Sunday. Elvis Costello, Crowded House, Crosby, Stills and Nash, and the ever marvellous Paul McCartney. Hot, sunny weather; Hyde Park crammed full of aged hippies; Elvis Costello sweating his head off in a purple velvet suit; Crosby, Stills and Nash covering the Stones' "Ruby Tuesday"; Paul McCartney covering "Tequila"... These were but a few of my most excellent experiences on Sunday. I've never been to a concert alone. The cinema, yes. To dinner, yes. To a concert? Nope. It was a truly eye opening experience. I haven't done very much completely alone in the last few years. Being married means you have a built-in companion for everything, and it doesn't even occur to me to book something for one person. This was no exception to that, actually, it was more a strange array of incidents that saw me traipsing...

And it's that time again! My five happy things for the week are as follows: 1. Seems like a silly thing to get so happy over, but it turns out there's a tiny little postage stamp of a garden at our office building. Surrounded by fairly well established hydrangeas, it boasts a garden bench and a picnic table. The grass is dotted with tiny daisies, and it gets a good amount of sun in the afternoons. It has become THE place to be at lunchtime, gets us outside and away from computers, and it makes such a difference to the rest of the day. A haven at Heathrow Express, if you will. 2. I've been dying to get a massage for ages now, it's been months since the last, and in general discussion early in the week a girl in the office mentioned that there was a spa behind our building, so we wandered over to check it out. Turns out that it's not only a (very) well appointed little spa, it's a bite-sized gym as well. It's got a Fastlane pool, the sort that's v...

Saturday saw Gabs and Co. en route to Chelmsford for the second chapter in the Great House Hunt. We had four to view which Himself had arranged with various estate agents in and around the area. The first house was beautiful, the garden was amazing, it was in our price range and very close to the station. The catch, you ask? A distinct lack of storage space, I reply. Where would my shoes live??? We moved on to the next. It was a milk carton. Square, white, oddly arranged inside (a window in the front coat closet?) and smelled of rental property. Someone else's food, you know what I mean. On to the next. The third was quite large, three bedrooms of which one would more than suffice for my in-house craftiness, utility room, garage, huge garden, in pretty decent decorative nick. Very nice kitchen, and the stove would be left for us. Right in our price range, and Himself reckons we might even be able to talk them down by £5k or so. Very promising, on to the next. The fourth house was ...

I know this should be my FFF post for the week. I'm breaking with tradition just this once. Don't get me wrong, there have been happy things this week. One of the girls in our department had her leaving do on Tuesday night, and a convivial time was had by all. Things at work are falling into place, the cats have been silly, I've talked to family, etc. I just have something I want to say, and I want to say it badly enough to let it take the place of my five happy things. I've had my iPod on shuffle at work for the last week, and it's funny how certain songs create a mental atmosphere. Calm, sad, joyous, angry, introspective, it's all there in that tiny black box. Ingrid Michaelson is a personal favourite, and in particular, the song entitled "Highway". For lack of a better way of expressing it, for me that song creates a mood of "enjoy it now, because things change". I know once we die, we don't have regrets, but let me indulge myse...

I'm fighting my own nature at the moment. Everything in me wants to be at home, sewing and being crafty. Everything I need to do is here in the office. *sigh* I have a mental image of myself in the future. I envision, in a slightly misty out of focus way, a bright house with small people, hand baked bread with homemade jam, parties in the garden with bunting and home cooked goodies, vintage finds lovingly restored to their rightful places in the universe... Unfortunately, this couldn't be much further from real life. *lol* Bleary trip to the shower, hop on the motorbike to fight traffic through Holland Park, much talking and not many actions with people unused to being chivvied along, hop back on the motorbike to fight traffic through Notting Hill, collapse on the couch to watch a few hours of tv with Himself and the mogs, fall into bed. Only to do it all again the next day. *grin* We're viewing more houses at the weekend, this time in Chelmsford. There are a few p...

The Great House Hunt has stalled slightly. *lol* We viewed the two properties in Eastcote on Saturday, with slightly disappointing results. The first of the two was the one I was most excited about, as it boasted a large garden, a conservatory, and three, count them, THREE bedrooms. It would have afforded us the space to dedicate the smallest of the rooms to my burgeoning craft supplies and sewing machine, and still leave a proper guest room for visitors to the House of Gabs. The garden was a blank canvas, completely undeveloped and waiting for a loving touch to bring it to life. Upon viewing, we discovered that the bedrooms all contained moldy window frames, rotting door frames, shredded carpet edges and dodgy paint features. Opening the bathroom door revealed bubbling lino on the floor, a buckling tub surround, and imminent tile collapse in the shower. The conservatory's sealant was dangling around every pane of glass, its foundation was crumbling, and the garden was smalle...

It's been a funny week, I'm having to think a little harder to find my five happy things. But we will persevere, and they are as follows: 1. We're looking at houses at the weekend. *grin* There are two in Eastcote that we have appointments to view, and it's very exciting. I don't really feel like a grownup, but I do love moving into a new place and nesting my head off. Plus, we're only looking at places with at least two bedrooms, so I'll have a place to put my sewing machine and any spare Texans I find in our area. No more air mattress in the living room floor! Woo hoo! Unless, of course, the whole family comes at once... I think I'll save that air mattress after all. 2. I love a bit of spring cleaning. I know, I know, I'm sick, but every office I've ever worked in has needed a proper thorough cleanout and archiving session, and it's been me that instigated and executed. I spent a few hours yesterday filling boxes full of stuff t...

And no, that's not a (very) thinly veiled reference to my recent illness. Things have a habit of changing, no matter how hard you hold on. Sometimes it's little things; gray hairs or crows feet, a little extra weight put on over the holidays, your favourite jeans coming apart at the seams. Sometimes it's big things; a sibling choosing a life path you don't agree with, the death of a loved one, or the loss of a friendship. The BFG and I met on a mutual contract at the Ministry of Justice, hit it off immediately, and have been practically inseparable ever since. We've weathered hard times with our respective spouses, family drama, work drama, and everything else life could find to throw at us for the last three years. There were bouts of random silliness, sarcasm, people watching, shoe shopping, mountains of good food and probably a little too much booze. And now it seems our friendship has run its course. I've always had a hard time saying goodbye. Himself ...

That's right, friends. I'm poorly. I'm feeble. I'm struck down with a mysterious malaise. I'm blogging. I find sick days intolerable. I'm incapable of "resting". I'm not good at "putting my feet up". Unless I'm perfectly well and have a load of things to do, that is. Then, I'm perfectly capable of sitting on my rump and watching an entire season of Prison Break in a day. When I'm ill, things get reorganised. I've got a load of laundry in as we speak. I've scanned in a work document to send off to a consultant and drafted the email to go along with it. I'm looking at a pile of folded clothes with a spark of initiative in my eye. It's half eight in the morning. *sigh* It's not so mysterious, to be fair. Last night saw myself and the BFG in the pub with a laptop and headphone splitters to watch Going Postal. Pub food ensued, and it all tasted great going down... won't go into detail with where that sentenc...

Welcome, felicitously frolicsome friends! I am aware that this is late. Read number four and take pity on me. Or not. It's whatever. *grin* My five happy things for the week are as follows: 1. I'd forgotten what it was like to be a grownup. Let me explain. I dress for work, not for what washes well. I haven't had a single person wipe their face on me, and the words "get your finger out of your nose" haven't been necessary. I've tidied the kitchen in the office a couple of times, but it's been because I was waiting for the kettle to boil and I wanted to, not because it was my job. Roll on, office days. Also, the extra added bonus of this office is that I'm busy all the time. Got to work at eight this morning and didn't realise time had passed until it was one in the afternoon, at which point I forced myself to leave the office for lunch to prevent permanently square eyes. I would much rather be busy and have a day that passes quickl...

One of the things I've never really agreed with in this country is the TV license. If you use your TV to watch regular programming, you have to pay a yearly fee to use your TV. Even for just the BBC. For years I lived with a TV hooked up to a DVD player, and had to call them up every time they stuck a note through the door reminding me to pay the fee to assure the drone paid to take my call that no, I did NOT have an aerial and did NOT watch TV, only watched DVDs from my (extensive) collection. They never fully believed me, and told me more than once that they'd be coming by to check out my setup, although the threatened visit never materialised. Himself and I ticked along without regularly scheduled programming for a couple of years after we got together, and had actually been married over a year when we moved into this flat and he decided having the option to watch TV was worth paying the fee. I'll admit, the novelty of it was a very strange feeling for an American. ...