Like this postmaternity leave damages careers
should read: *prejudicial hiring practices* surrounding maternity leave damages careers.
that is all.
exciting, informative, snarky, and very likely fabricated tales of life as an american expat in london
miss misery
one of the great joys of life is that no matter how old you get, you’re constantly changing and learning.
except… not so fucking joyful when you change from a previously *non-hayfever sufferer* to a massive hayfever sufferer. and not so joyful when you learn that hayfever feels like someone has stuffed your sinus cavities full of big wads of that pink fiberglass insulation.
oh my god, i’ve never known such misery existed. itchy, painful, congested, drippy, puffy, pressure.
that is all.
as predictable as the weather
bank holiday? check.
pouring rain? check.
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how i know i’m getting old, part 2 (or: how you know when it’s time to go home)
went out drinking with the girls. had a fun night, flirting and chatting with attractive, single guys. drank many, many 2-for-1 cocktails early in the evening. the conversation with the cute (but intellectually challenged) guys is lubricated through vast quantities of fruit-flavoured alcohol.
but 6 hours later, it starts getting kinda late. at a certain point, you start thinking, “i’m tired of drinking… yet if i sober up any more, this will be really boring.”
then someone mentions a foam party.
your mate (age 27) says “yeah!! let’s go!”.
you (age 35) think, “eh, it’ll ruin my new suede shoes.”
home, james.
how i know i’m getting old
came home from work.
did some yoga.
took a hot shower.
changed into sweats.
ate a baked potato the size of my head.
oooh yeah, baby! that’s my blissfully relaxing friday night, at the beginning of a long weekend.
and i don’t even care how lame it makes me.
and she says patience, darling
i’m exceptionally bad at waiting. waiting makes me terribly anxious – palpitations, churning stomach, the works. i’ve always had the patience of a fruit fly, and try as i might, i’ve not gotten any better at it. the utter lack of control is completely crazymaking. i hate to wait. and right now i’m playing the waiting game on multiple big things: waiting to hear about my job interview, waiting to hear about my grad school plans, waiting for a rather large cheque to clear, waiting for my root canal, waiting for a doctor’s referral. i’m waiting for post, waiting for emails, waiting for online parcel tracking. i’m waiting for people to get back to me, waiting for applications to be processed, waiting for decisions to be made. i’m waiting for validation, waiting for acknowledgement, waiting for credit, waiting for consultation, waiting to qualify.
i can only conclude that the gods are conspiring to drive me over the edge.
built to spill – the wait
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so much for that new year’s diet
this is what i had for breakfast (courtesy of a colleague)
a red velvet cupcake from the american hummingbird bakery. delectable, with the best cream cheese frosting i’ve ever had in my life. with a strong, sweet cup of coffee.
heaven.
no better start to the day.
done
you know, i’ve not bought non-free range chicken (or any other non-free range meat) in about 2 years now. i didn’t want to contribute to the horrific industrial-style torture of animals.
but watching jamie oliver kill a dozen little fluffy baby chicks on television, because they’re male and therefore economically not worth keeping alive, has pretty much put me off chicken altogether for good, i think.
go figure
“mr. and mrs. smith”, the barely passable action comedy starring angelina jolie and brad pitt, is on television – and i’m watching it for nostalgia’s sake.
you see, i’ve seen this movie already, no fewer than four times. in spanish. it was on a continuous loop (along with 2 episodes of “seinfeld”, and the horrific remake of “guess who’s coming to dinner?” starring ashton kutcher) on a 24 hour bus journey from santiago to san pedro de atacama in chile.
i swore after that journey i’d never want to see either angelina or brad’s face ever again. who knew i’d be so wrong?
then again, who knew i’d be revisiting a hellacious 24 hour bus ride as a fond trip down memory lane?
ignorance is bliss
this is what i get for watching daytime television.
a u.k. ripoff of “the view” where a bunch of women sit around nattering, takes on the weighty question: “should women propose?”
which leads to a discussion about how they *shouldn’t* propose, but should instead manipulate the guy into proposing by thinking it’s his idea.
sometimes i find it hard to believe i live in the 21st century. sigh.
and for the record, i proposed to j first.
suspension of disbelief
an advert for the “dirty dancing” reality show comes on.*
jonno: you know what i wonder? you watch that whole movie and they never once mention the word “statutory”.
*yes, a whole reality show based on “dirty dancing”. go figure.
i could use a cool mil
well, whaddya know? infamous “southie” boston irish gangster whitey bulger is roaming the streets of london. and there’s still a £1m pricetag on his head.
i’m keeping my eyes peeled!
yawn
you know you’re tired when…
you get up in the morning and put your thong underwear on *sideways*.
sadly, this is not even the first time this has happened to me. i once wore it that way for nearly half a day.
i thought i heard the shuffle of angels’ feet
heard on a podcast this morning during a 20 miler
“only 0.1 of 1% of the world’s population have run a marathon”
this afternoon, my legs tell me there’s a damn good reason for that.
moby – run on
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you’re not fooling anyone
stop! you there! in those teeny-tiny pencil-skinny jeans? with the massive muffin top bulge over the waistband like over-risen bread dough?
yeah. not a good look.
/catty
one ply or two?
Data about calls made and received will also be available to 652 public bodies, including the police and councils.
fuck me – pretty soon they’ll be logging the number of toilet flushes per household.
sigh.
something corporate – watch the sky
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the queen’s english
pseudo-words and acronyms used at a workshop i attended this afternoon on a *national framework*:
- “purposivity”
– “contributivity”
– “t.a.p.u.p.a.” (transparency, accuracy, somethingsomethingsomethingsomething, pronounced “tah-poo-pah” and said without even cracking a smile)
they invested how much money and time on putting together this framework? and that’s the best they could do?!?!?!
the drawing board – the writer
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the problem with no thanksgiving
i just saw my first advert for christmas shopping.
that’s just wrong on so many levels.
yeah, i know
i’ve been quiet for a while.
my brain is fuzzy lately. last week i was too shattered to even think straight. this weekend i’ve been watching rugby, listening to new music, getting lost in facebook (god help me), recovering from long runs and nursing hangovers.
i sit down to write, and… i got nothing.
maybe next week.
john lennon – watching the wheels
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the noble savage strikes out on her own
been helping my friend amity for the past few days make the giant leap from blogger to wordpress. it’s not been without its growing pains and poor amity has had a pretty steep learning curve, but the rough structure is there for her to play around with and make it truly her own. there’s something incredibly freeing and creative about doing your own thing that’s very rewarding.
welcome to the weird and wonderful world of wordpress, amity!
go on over there and tell her how fantastic it is 
