81 posts tagged “life”

Today at Sainsburys, two sad things happened:

1) We bought Sainsbury's own brand of baked beans, instead of Heinz's.

2) We bought Sainsbury's own brand of ketchup, instead of Heinz's.

Please bear in mind that these are two things I said that I'd never do, but fuck it, we saved like £1.50. And do you know what £1.50 is? Half of a Starbucks latte. IT'S WORTH IT.

After purchasing these two ghetto items, I started thinking about all of the slightly ghetto things from either my late teens (collecting all the change we could find in the house and driving in a 10-year-old car with the CD player ripped out to the local Wienerschnitzel for dinner) or from my childhood that we did when money was tight.

I suppose this whole not having money thing isn't that surprising or shocking to me, as growing up, we didn't have a lot of money. We always had clothes, we always had a roof over our heads and we never, ever went hungry.

But when you live in a suburban area where you're surrounded by soccer moms who live in gated communities and your neighbor the dentist who drives a Porsche, you kind of notice these things once you're old enough to.

It also didn't help that there was the assumption at my schools that if you're weren't dressed head to toe in Abercrombie & Fitch, it was because you couldn't afford it and were, like, hella poor. (Well, we couldn't, but fuck - $20 for a fucking t-shirt?! I wouldn't pay for that now even if I COULD afford it.)

Back then, certain things were luxuries: going out to eat in a restaurant, going to McDonalds, buying a CD, getting new shoes, going out for ice cream, getting a new shirt at Mervyn's, etc, etc...

Because going out to eat or getting fast food was a luxury - even big "value" meals were out of the question. Do you want to supersize that? No. NO you don't!

At one point I remember when McDonalds did their 29 cent Hamburger Wednesdays and 39 cent Cheeseburger Sundays. My mom and my sister and I would go through the drive through, but only ever on a Wednesday when we would order a bunch of hamburgers, and then go home, slap on a Kraft Single, and put it in the microwave.

We saved 10 cents. IN YO FACE RONALD!

When things were really bad and pizza was out of the question, we would make "Pizza" instead - a fine household delicacy that I sometimes still make.

"Pizza" Recipe:

Ingredients:

2 slices of white bread
Mayo
Ketchup
2 Kraft Singles

Directions:

On each slice of bread, you spread on a little mayo, then a little more ketchup than the mayo, and then lay a Kraft Single on top of it. Pop it in the microwave for 60 seconds and you're set! Pizza!

When (actual) pizza was in the cards, we'd get Papa Murphy's. Do you remember Papa Murphy's? At the time, I remember it pissing off my friends and I that our parents wouldn't just get freakin' Dominos or Round Table. Take and bake? Really?

But, good god, it was good. In fact, it's so good that my pals on Twitter tell me that it's still alive and kickin'. One guy even informed me that they have a Papa Murphy's in their local Wal-Mart. How fucking American is that!?!? Love it.

Reflecting on how delicious an Italian Calzone from Papa Murphy's is, and how unappreciative I was of it at the time, part of me wants to call up my 13-year-old self and be like,

"Bitch, you better appreciate your whole 'take 'n bake" culture because one day, missy, you're going to fucking miss it. And you know what, be thankful that your parents are buying you a Papa Murphy's for you and your stupid little friend for this sleepover party.

Firstly, because that was nice of your mom. Secondly, your stupid little friend is going to stab you in the back in about three years so, I wouldn't put much more effort into this. Also, don't tell her that you like the guy you sit next to in Science. She'll tell him."

So, all in all, buying the Sainsburys beans isn't going to kill me. At least we can have beans.

I believe it's called MAKING DO.

So, you know, buying a 29 cent hamburger and putting on your own cheeese to save 10 cents may be a little ghetto, but hell, you never know when all you need is 10 cents.

(Hi, Mom!) 
 

Our first week working at home together was, well, weird.

Trying to find a routine, an appropriate time to get up, and a good time to take our lunch hour and to have it only actually last an hour has been difficult.

We're also learning that with both of us being at home, people don't exactly understand that we really are working.

Just because we're home doesn't mean that we can hang out all day or meet up for drinks every night. I dunno. Maybe because Iain and I are both polite and pretty easy going, I feel like people aren't understanding the gravity of the changes that are happening.

I can talk about how positive this change has been until I'm blue in the face, but that doesn't change the fact that it's fucking difficult and scary. It astounds me that people don't understand that, see past our positivity and smiles and understand that OH RIGHT NEITHER ONE OF YOU HAS A JOB. That must be pretty scary. Here. Let me buy you a pint instead of trying to stick drink after drink on your tab behind the bar.

We're not asking for or expecting charity and pity from everyone - just as we're not asking for advice or moaning to anyone that will listen about it. All I personally ask for is a little understanding. Maybe a tiny smidgen of compassion. That's all.

So, when I can't come out to every single birthday party or every single event or dinner or to the inevitable long list of Christmas parties that will be happening soon - it's because I can't afford it. My money goes to train tickets, to food, to practical things that will help my business, and maybe to a pint of beer at the weekend. I cannot afford a new dress and a new pair of shoes to come to your party. No I do not have an old one to wear because I didn't have money for a dress last year either. Or the year before that. Are we seeing a theme here?

Again, I hate to complain, I honestly hate to use this space to bitch about things like this - but I've promised to blog every day about what is really going on in my life. And this is it.

It's a magical time. It's the "tipping point"; the "make or break"; the "moment of truth"...

I'm lucky and hard working and I have an amazing partner, and business partner at that...

But I've also have bills, a bank account to keep in the black, and my own little snow globe of worries that shakes itself up at what seems to be the most inopportune times. So forgive me if my smile seems a little tired, maybe a little strained, and I can't buy you a round of drinks...

I will when I'm rich and fucking famous. ;)

I've now sat here for 45 minutes, in bed, trying to figure out how to articulate how exactly I'm feeling, and what exactly has happened today.

Iain and I have decided, however, that if a psychic were to look at my aura or to take one of those photos to see what my energy looked like, I would simply look periwinkle.

A bluish, grayish, purplish color that is a bit faded. A bit flat.

My energy this evening is gone. And it's not just my physical energy, but my energy energy.

I feel like a big, empty, periwinkle Piggy Bank.

There are people who you like, but have to take with they say with a grain of salt...

People that you like what they say, but not what they do. People who you can enjoy what they practice but not what they preach.

I like what you write but not what you act. I like you when you're the only person in the room, but not what you turn into when you have an audience.

I feel like I deal with far too many people that - if we were in high school (because let's face it, the real world is far too much like high school) - I would be the nerd and they would be the popular cheerleader or football player that would pretend as if I didn't exist around all their friends, but was really nice to me when no one else was around.

What counts? How someone is to your face when it's just you and them - one on one - or how they are with everyone else?

Do you blame people for playing the game? For buying into political BS?

I just feel like I've been a parade of smiles lately. Full of anecdotes, full of one liners to keep all in my presence smiling and comfortable.

I smile, I put people at ease while I tell my story and speak my truths because I want to be "out there"...

But am I really being heard? Is what I'm saying getting through? Do I just keep singing and hope that eventually the melody will fall upon the right ears?

I don't feel like I'm doing it wrong. I don't want to stop smiling. I don't want to stop singing...

It's just a shame when fail to realize my fuel warning light is on and I'm running on fumes...  

Today was sort of an epic fail.

I got a lot done. Organized a lot of shit. Emailed a few people who's names have been staring at me from the To-Do list on my white board. (If I owe you an email, I'm sorry. I'm rubbish. I'll get back to you soon!)

However, it's the things that went wrong or were difficult that stand out, and are - I believe - causing the right side of my head to feel like it's going to explode.

Back in September, when I was on holiday in California, I managed to do that thing when you run out of money, but don't know, so you keep spending money because you figure if you have no money in your bank account, your debit card will not work.

However, your bank loves this! Sure you can buy that sweater even though you've got -£190 in your account! It means they can charge you £35 per transaction you go over!!!

So, my bank charged me a shit load in over draft fees.

They told me the charges would come out of my account in "mid to late November".

When do you think the mother fuckers took out the money?

November 3rd.

Which sent me into the red AGAIN. Causing me over draft fees....AGAIN!

So, I rang the fuckers up today and LO AND BEHOLD they actually did some research and discovered they had a recorded telephone conversation with me, saying that they would take out the charges in "late November".

They're going to sort it out, but I nearly had a fucking heart attack because of it.

Add on top of that, our recent and sudden change with Iain's job...

Add on top of that our covertable car is LEAKING and causing WATER DAMAGE to our seats. (Mind you this car is only 2 years old.)

Add on top of that the business cards we ordered for one of our BitchBuzz writers ended up with a big fucking blue smear on it, and Iain had to wait on the phone with them for 35 minutes while they sorted it out. Who sends out TWO BOXES of nearly IDENTICAL business cards, ONE with a big fucking blue stain on it, and the other without, and thinks is OK!?

Just been an absolutely ridiculous day.

Such a whiny post. I apologize. But, here we are, day 10 of NaBloPoMo and I can't find anything witty or funny to say. Just a glimpse into the reality of my life of the moment...

I feel so emo.

 

Tomorrow morning the sun will come up at about 7:00am.

The alarm will go off.

We'll hit snooze.

It'll go off again.

Iain will get up. I'll hear the kettle go. The refrigerator will open, and once the milk poured, close again.

I'll hear a teaspoon dinging the inside of a teacup and then softly hit the counter top.

Footsteps down the hall.

The running of the bath, the swishing of bubbles.

And then more footsteps down the hall.

Except on this particular morning, there won't be any kisses goodbye.

Or me hollering: "Do you have your wallet? Keys? Oyster card?" down the stairs as I've done so many times since I moved here.

On this particular morning, we'll be sitting in the office together. Working on the same project...

It's going to be a little strange, and I know it's going to take us a while to truly get in a groove and figure out a good routine of doing things.

It's a new chapter. We have know idea how things are going to happen or what exactly is going to happen, but I know that it's something good.

So I did post yesterday. Some may not be able to see it, and I know announcing that I've chosen to exercise my privacy options here at VOX sort of defeats the purpose - but I'm just saying that so y'all know I didn't flake out on my NaBloPoMo pledge.

I just needed a bit of privacy yesterday.

This week has been absolutely insane. Emotional highs. Emotional lows. I got a blood blister for the first time when I got a bit of my thumb stuck in a lock on a bathroom door in a pub. I wept over politics every single day, and can barely look at the cover of The Guardian from November 6th that features a giant photo of Obama from Tuesday night and a headline that reads "Obama's New America" without wanting to cry all over again.

This weekend is my brother-in-law's birthday, and then my other brother-in-law's birthday later this week - and it will be nice to hang out and see my family over here. As the years go by, I really appreciate having my inlaws so close.

I really lucked out when it comes to the family I married into. They are a kind, welcoming, fun group of people who drink as much as my family does and they've made the transition of moving and starting a new life so much easier...

I don't know what has happened in my life over the past two weeks but I suddenly feel as I suddenly slammed on the gas pedal instead of just coasting, instead of just letting the motor idle.

Liz is coming to visit the last week of November, and Iain has made it possible for me to join her on a day-trip to Paris. (Thank god for Eurostar's Youth Tickets - Under 26s can travel to Paris and back for only £49!).

Then, a couple weeks after that I'm headed to Paris again to cover LeWeb08 for BitchBuzz. I'm incredibly excited, a little nervous, but mostly just thankful to be going and to be covering such an amazing event, with so many interesting speakers all under one (big) roof.

By tomorrow I hopefully will have processed everything a bit more to discuss them. I have a feeling a day of normalcy and another morning of sleeping in will do the trick.

This week has been a complete emotional whirlwind for many, many reasons.

One of those reasons that Iain was officially made redundant at his job today, and as of Monday will be at home all day with me.

Aside from the worries and concerns that you can probably all guess and would have if you had been made redundant - we're actually a bit excited about this.

Our plan has always been to work together from home. To run a business together. To work for ourselves.

And now, unexpectedly, those plans will be possible as of Monday.

Throw that in with Obama's presidency and a few other things and I can barely keep my head from exploding.

It's all just a little too much.

But we're positive. We're hopeful...we're just a bit shocked, still.

We've deicded that since neither one of us will be working in an office 9-5, we should start going to the gym at lunch time.

Iain: "We should really be going to the gym five days a week."

Me: "FIVE DAYS A WEEK? I can't do that."

Iain: "Yes you can, it's not that hard. You only have to do carbs every other day."

Me: "Carbs?"

Iain: "I mean cardio."

Me: "We can totally do carbs five days a week."

 

Obama is going to be the next President of the United States.

I stayed up until 2am watching MSNBC's live stream online, and CNN's live stream on MSNBC's commercial breaks. I stayed on Twitter until the very moment I went to bed. I talked on Google Chat to my friends in SF.

Although I was thousands of miles away from what was happening, I was right in the middle of it.

Thank you, Internet.

It's been interesting observing this monumental election on foreign soil. It's been incredibly eye opening to see how much people in the UK care about our next President - not just because it's topical, but because it truly does affect them.

Sure I'm living in a different country, but I care very much about what happens in my home country for multiple reasons:

I was born and rasied there. I lived in California for 20 years of my life and am an American citizen.

My family lives there. My friends live there. My Internet friends live there.

I care about the United States enough to vote and pay attention every single day to what is going on there, because it is my home. A home that I may need to move back to one day.

I care about its safety and its politics because what if I need to return to California and raise my kids there?

I care about the safety and the quality of the place my parents will grow old in.

I have so much to say about Obama, the reactions to him becoming the President-Elect, and why he got in.

Am I proud that the USA have elected a black man? Yes. Of course I am.

Am I proud that we elected someone with a diverse background? Yes.

But what makes me the most proud, is that we have elected someone who's views reflect most views and most of the  concerns of the American people. Someone who is real, and understands what it's like to struggle to afford to go to college.

I am proud that we made the choice, as a nation, to elect someone who stands for hope and to take a chance on somebody new. Somebody with new policies, new ways of thinking, and a new respect for the people that make up the United States of America that, I don't believe, Washington has seen in very long time. If ever.

Do I think it is insignificant that Barack Obama is African-American? No.

I find it moving, hisotric, and representative of what America is really, truly about.

But what I think is even more significant can be found beyond the color of his skin and the origin of his name.

It's in his words. It's in his actions. It's in his intentions and in his soul.

I'm proud to be an American. I've always been proud to be an American.

I just don't think that for the past 8 years America has been proud of itself - and that is the change that we will see under President Barack Obama's administration.

Well done, America. Well fucking done.

 

HAPPY ELECTION DAY!!!

Have you had nervous diarrhea all day, too? The shakes? Spontaneous sobbing? Panic attacks?

I know. It's rough. I started drinking at 8:45am, and not even that has eased the, eh, unease I feel.

However, I feel excited. I feel pumped. I'm trying my best to stay up to 2am until the swing states polls close, and we're still about 2 hours away from any of the polls closing...so now I'm just sitting here, checking Twitter, The Huffington Post and CNN like a madwoman while watching a live stream from MSNBC online at the same time.

In other news, it's been a weird day.

There are a lot of changes happening in our household. They're all positive, they're all exciting...but as it is with all things exciting and positive...they're a little bit scary.

(Please do not email me and ask if I'm pregnant.)

I'm starting to figure out that when it comes to my relationship with Iain - the Universe is always talking.

In our life together, if we both open up our eyes and ears and listen to the way the wind and the current is pulling us...we can do no wrong. We can't make a mistake. Are there mistakes? If your intentions are true, can you really fuck up?

I realize this is sort of cryptic...but my mind is just a bit overwhelmed. In a warm, fuzzy, scary, exciting sort of way.

Oh, and one more thing....

OBAMA 'O8!!!!!!!!!!!

People love to talk. They love to give you unsolicited advice, tell you what to do, and let you know exactly what it is that you're doing wrong with your life.

It's easy to listen, and to take everything to heart. It's easy to let people make you feel like shit and to take it all personally. It's harder to question. It's harder to have to think about why exactly somebody would say something presumptuous to you.

I was thinking about this the other day, and what I would be like if I had listened and continued to listen to what everyone told me.

What if I had believed everything everyone told me?

I would have stayed in school and been miserable and poor. (I would have never taken that promotion at Starbucks, and stayed with my ex even longer than I should have, depending on him financially because I was a poor student.)

I would have gone on anti depressants, never questioning if I actually ever really needed to be on them.

I would have really focused and tried to become a TV critic, cuz I would be "really good" at it. Despite my low level of interest in writing about television.

I would have taken that job I applied for, even if it wasn't right for me, because you should always have a job before you give up your old one.

I would never stand up for myself, as it's not good to *burn bridges*.

I would have never become a writer because, hey, don't you need a degree for that?

I wouldn't have chosen to stay with Iain in London for the remainder of my initial trip to the UK back in January 2007. I would have gone back up to Liverpool with my psychotic "friend" who tried to convince me Iain "wasn't the guy for me"...right after she called me a cunt.

I would have gone out with numerous short Mormon guys because "He seems like a really nice guy!"

I would have become Mormon by now.

I would have read CS Lewis's Mere Christianity, taken it all to heart, and become a devout Christian.

I would (still) be a Republican, Sarah Palin would be my hero, and I have started up a 100 Reasons why Obama is A Terrorist/Socialist/Will Bring Death to Israel & Everyone Else blog.

BitchBuzz would have never happened.

Dating people online is weird Don't do it.

You should always keep your mouth shut about other people's kids because you don't know what it's like to let your kids run around wild, and screaming in a public place until you have kids yourself. IT'S HARD OKAY?!**

I would believe that I don't actually know how to communicate with other people or lead a team, despite what I may have learned in my last job as a Barista...

 

**OK, no one actually said that to me, but if I stay in this noisy ass Starbucks two more seconds I'm going to kill someone. The only thing preventing me from NOT saying anything, is I don't really feel like getting in an argument with 15 mothers about how poor their parenting skills are. Not worth it.