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Quandary

02.02.10 – 22:02

One of the dear little graffitists in our our village (presumably Andy P) likes to tag the bridges along the canal and the creek with “TAGGED.” I can’t decide if this is idiotic or brilliantly self-referential.

By eptivity | Posted in England | Leave a Comment

What I Did on My Christmas Vacation

01.25.10 – 21:01

Among other things:

I knitted this thing! And it only took me a month! I’m especially proud of it because I only used a pattern to figure out how to do the knotted cables in the middle. The rest is all me. Stephan helped me decide what to do and I got the fancier-than-normal yarn 50% off, so it was a highly successful project all round. This is what the back looks like:

Helpfully removable in case it needs to be washed, but I’ve got my eye on you, anyone who ever sets foot in our guest room. It looks a little misshapen because of the IKEA pillow form stuffed inside; I can assure you that it is without flaw.

Now I just have to decide what to do with rest of the yarn for the next pillow: matching, or mix it up a bit. And then once that is done, I can move on to the real treat:

[A TOTALLY AWESOME and NOT AT ALL CREEPY look from an undated knitting pamphlet I picked up at the charity shop. Your jealousy is unbecoming, Internets.]

By eptivity | Posted in uncategorized | Comments (2)

What It Looks Like at My House

01.10.10 – 16:01

Photo: NASA/GSFC, MODIS Rapid Response [taken January 7, 2010]

By eptivity | Posted in England | Comments (1)

Resolved

01.04.10 – 12:01

New Year’s resolutions and I don’t really get on. The problem with resolving to do something every day, forever, is that a) it’s quite daunting, and b) as soon as you break the resolution, which, let’s face it, is going to happen sooner or later, you throw in the towel completely since the possibility of perfection no longer exists.

Oh well! Better luck next year!

Which is why I set New Year’s goals instead (far be it from me to excuse myself entirely from culturally mandated planning!). These are mine:

1. Plan less, do more. [Note: No, the irony here is not lost one me.]
2. Get a job somewhere in the world outside our personal home.
3. Get my UK driver’s license. [Fun fact: I can legally drive in Ireland, but not in Northern Ireland.]
4. Write a book.
5. Implement personal graphic design education.
6. Take some printmaking classes.
7. Two semi-secret design projects for these two people that I know.
8. Sell enough stuff to unsuspecting strangers on the Internet to cover our food expenses.
9. Finish the books on the 101 Books list that I can access here (somewhere between 28 and 66) and watch 97 movies on my official movies list.
10. More regular blogging type stuff.

And perhaps most importantly:

Be Conscious

That is: replace typical resolutions with actual thought about what I’m doing and why. Revolutionary, I know.

Should I be reading about other people doing stuff, or should I actually be doing stuff? Should I watch another hour of television just because it’s on, or should I do something that contributes to my awesomeness as a person? Should I take my contacts out, ever, as per the suggestion of every eye care professional I’ve ever met, or should I just let my oxygen-deprived eyeballs fall out when they may?

[Correct answers: the latter, the latter, the former.]

The beauty of this is that while, yes, sometimes you really do need to eat half of a chocolate cake in one go, you’re not breaking any personal covenant to do it. Just do better next time.

And as someone with a sense of guilt bordering on Catholic, this approach is just fine by me.

By eptivity | Posted in uncategorized | Leave a Comment

2009 Closeout

12.29.09 – 15:12

And now, really more than you ever wanted to know, 2009 Closeout Edition

Five excellent places I visited in the UK:
—Peak District
—Kelvingrove Museum, Glasgow
—Edinburgh Military Tattoo
—Summits of most of the Three Peaks [Snowdon (highest point in Wales) and Scafell Pike (highest point in England)]
—Natural History Museum, London

Five excellent words and phrases brought to me by England:
—give it a miss [decline an invitation]
—kip [nap]
—lie in [as in, "having a bit of a..."; staying in bed past the accustomed time of arising]
—sort [take care of; "I've sorted the holiday plans"]
—twig [realize; comprehend]

Five excellent and highly underappreciated things about the US:
—Being able to send mail from the mailbox located at your personal home
—Free mail forwarding when you move
—A late November holiday to rein in the beginning of the Christmas season
—NFL commentators who are impeccably dressed (i.e., not wearing Smashing Pumpkins T-shirts from 1996) and actually contribute to one’s understanding of the game
—Summers that include sunshine and its associated warmth and vitamin D

Five unexpectedly excellent things about the UK:
—Speedy domestic mail service
—The canal system, in particular the bit of the Staffordshire-Worcestershire Canal that provides the quickest walking route from our house to the village
—Relative ease of accessibility to stroopwaffels
—David Attenborough, best nature program narrator of all time. I would listen to him narrate paint drying. Americans who got Sigourney Weaver instead on the Discovery Channel/BBC Planet Earth series: you were robbed!
—Starbucks on the steps of St. Paul’s Cathedral

Five excellent foods brought to me by England:
—Co-operative brand black currant and liquorice toffee candy
—Pick ‘n’ Mix at the movie theatre
—Bananas grilled with chocolate and marshmallow
—Toffee apples
—Tiger bread [technically a Dutch introduction]

Five best books:
—Adventures on the High Teas: In Search of Middle England by Stuart Maconie [Two years in a row for this guy!]

—Beautiful Boy by David Sheff [Heartbreaking. Drugs are bad, kids.]

—Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury [I love the bit where technology has advanced to the point of wall-sized TV screens, but hasn't progressed past CRTs and no one has computers. The trouble with writing about the future, I suppose.]

—Great Expectations by Charles Dickens [A little slow to getting around to reading this one, but worth it.]

—Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates [I can't remember whether I liked the movie better. It does have Leonardo DiCaprio in its favor.]

Five or so excellent commercials:
—Compare the Market series
—Ford S-Max
—Give it a Ponder series [not British, but still awesome]
—Know Your Limits
—Robinson’s All Natural

Five best movies:
—Black Book and The Counterfeiters [These go together because they're both excellent foreign-language films about World War II that I watched around the same time. Go ahead and throw in Defiance for good measure.]

—Chinatown [According to the Schwartz Theory of Movie Endings, this is the only movie I've ever seen that has an unequivocally bad ending.]

—The Hangover [The one movie I saw with Stephan this year. Hilarious, if you're into this sort of thing.]

—In Bruges ["It's in Belgium." (And it's rated R for a reason. Don't say I didn't warn you.)]

—Young Victoria [This is the only movie included herein that is approved for parental viewing. Seen in the Kensington High Street theater just down the road from where Queen Victoria was born and brought up. Featuring my introduction to theater pick 'n' mix, and a giant gummy shark my friend Sharon tried to choke on.]

Five most important things I learned:
—Not to drive with an empty or poorly fitted roof rack atop my car, offer hot drinks to accident victims, or rev my engine at elderly people in crosswalks

—How to letterpress

—The correct order in which to turn on and off the television and its assorted auxiliary components so as to save pushing one extra button each time and to prevent the further abuse of Stephan’s long-suffering patience

—The most efficient way to empty the water out of the washing machine when the pump stops working. Again.

—Keyboard shortcuts for the £, ¡, and — [Alt+0163, Alt+0161, and Alt+0151, respectively (and by the way, that is an inverted exclamation point, especially helpful for yelling things at Spanish-speaking people like  ¡CENAIDA!)]

By eptivity | Posted in America, England | Leave a Comment

Thanksgiving Myths Dispelled

11.26.09 – 13:11

Of course this is what Thanksgiving looks like!

This just in: England doesn’t actually celebrate Thanksgiving. A tragic oversight that only serves to introduce all sorts of problems, such as Christmas decorations appearing in stores in early October and people having their trees up already (the horror!). To help our British friends understand it all, I have prepared this short item to dispel some common Thanksgiving misconceptions.

Myth: Thanksgiving is just another day to celebrate America’s independence from Britain.

Fact: The first Thanksgiving (1621) was a harvest celebration after the Pilgrims survived their fist winter in North America; the fact that they left Britain for America is just a coincidence. Now it is a celebration of two of America’s most cherished deadly sins: gluttony and sloth.

Myth: But still, Thanksgiving celebrations could more accurately be called “Thank God We’re Not British” celebrations.

Fact: Vitriolic anti-British screed accounts for only 80 percent of traditional Thanksgiving fun, at best. The other 20 percent is eating pumpkin pie.

Myth: Thanksgiving is a day for American families to gather together and reflect on their blessings.

Fact: Thanksgiving is a day for American families to highlight and further solidify their gender roles. Persons of the female persuasion spend most of the day in the kitchen, and the men are just as dedicated to their traditional duty of watching football all day.

This is because American men are only permitted to cook outdoors and as late November is generally too cold to barbecue, their hands are tied—TIED!—unless, praise be, there is some turkey deep-frying to do.

Myth: So men’s Thanksgiving activities center primarily around watching television.

Fact: Men’s Thanksgiving activities center primarily around watching television while drinking.*

Myth: American football players are wimps; just look at all that padding.

Fact: American football (aka “real football”) players wear padding because they prefer to not actually die during course of play.

Myth: The Pilgrims ate turkey at the first Thanksgiving.

Fact: The Pilgrims were vegetarian. They ate vegetarian meatballs and they liked it.

Incidentally, this is exactly what we’re having at our Thank God We’re Not British celebration this weekend. And you’re invited! I can’t promise you available seating, but chances are good that I will accidentally sing my personal Ode to Pumpkin Pie out loud at some point, to the embarrassment of myself and those around me.

Pumpkin pie
Pumpkin pie
Pumpkin pumpkin pumpkin pie
(repeat)

* Of course, I don’t actually know this firsthand: even if I had ever been to a Thanksgiving where alcohol was served, OBVIOUSLY my Thanksgivings are spent in the kitchen.

By eptivity | Posted in America, England | Leave a Comment

Trivial

11.09.09 – 10:11

1. I much prefer Bonfire Night to Halloween. This may mean I’m British now.

The bonfire we went to this year was a fundraiser for the local Scout troop and featured a hastily constructed pile of wooden pallets, assorted food stalls in an open building that quickly filled with smoke, a  bouncy castle, and a relatively impressive firework display.

Except for the egregious lack of Staffordshire oatcakes and hot cider (I even took an empty Thermos I co-opted from Stephan with me, just in case), it was our favorite Bonfire Night so far. Closer (walkable, even), cheaper (and fundraising-er), more authentic (although without the Guy Fawkes effigy, which was fine by me), AND I had my first ever toffee apple (delicious).

The music was pretty good too, but if it were up to me and my mad DJing skillz, the playlist would solely comprise songs having to do with fire—how we didn’t start it, how we don’t need no water, and how baby, you need to come on and light mine.

2. I know some of you thought it couldn’t be done, but we totally have British friends now. And let me tell you: it is not easy trying to explain the subtle connotative variations between “white trash,” “trailer trash,” “hick,” “redneck,” and “hillbilly.” All in the name of cultural literacy, people!

3. Since most American football games are played in the middle of the English night, we record them on our new DVR and watch them on the weekends. What I’ve learned this season:

a. Stephan is jealous of my affinity for NBC sportscaster Al Michaels, whom I also credit with my current inability to say “coffee” without a Brooklyn accent.

b. In a delightfully American move, Chad Johnson, number 85 of the Cincinnati Bengals, legally changed his name to Chad Ochocinco. Did you know about this? And if so, why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t give up all my rights when I moved here!

By eptivity | Posted in England, Stephan | Comments (1)

Easily Impressed

11.04.09 – 18:11

One of the things I love about England is how uniforms are mandatory at most schools. Which, let’s face it, is adorable. Like the little boy of approximately six years whom I saw in London this one time: gray cap with a red emblem, probably a gray and red striped tie, gray jacket, gray short pants with a red stripe down the seam, and gray knee socks with two red stripes at the top. Riding a Razor scooter.

The uniforms around here are not so fancy (sweatshirts and trousers, usually), but I still like them, especially when they involve boys in neckties and girls in knee socks. And just when I thought anonymous uniformed English children couldn’t get any more endearing, there was a pack of ten-year-old boys in the grocery store this afternoon who spent their presumably hard-earned pocket money on candy apples. Candy apples! What will they think of next?

English moppets FTW.

By eptivity | Posted in England | Leave a Comment

Marital Strife

10.31.09 – 10:10

Not to be one of those annoying couples that claims they never fight, but we almost never do. And we’re pretty good at speedy resolution, so no one has ever had to sleep on the couch.

This may not long be the case, however, as we do have this one ongoing issue that as yet is unresolvable:

Whether I am singing along with Chicago’s “Look Away” with the appropriate level of sincerity.

Yes, we actually fight about this. I contend that a) it’s in the perfect key for me to sing at the top of my lungs, thus making it appear as though I’m not taking it as seriously as I very well may be, and b) come on, IT’S CHICAGO, for crying out loud. And it’s a BALLAD. A ballad about being so distraught over an ex moving on that you ask her or perhaps him to kindly look away if you happen to burst into tears when your paths cross. If there were ever a song that warranted the tiniest bit of singalong insincerity, it is this one.

Stephan’s contention: JUST KIDDING. He can start his own blog if he wants to garner support for whatever cockamamie argument he dreams up! (Hi Stephan! Love you!)

Though I can’t quite embrace their generally sickening sentimentality, ballads are ranked number one in singalong fun, so I’m trying to stockpile an adequate supply for non-Stephan-offensive singing.

And so I turn to you, dear Internets, for suggestion. What we’re looking for here is something along the lines of “This Kiss,” “You’re Still the One,” “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing,” and their ilk. I don’t know why the best ones are from country artists, but I am an equal opportunity ballad lover. Bonus points for songs featuring both male and female vocalists (Stephan’s preference, which I am happy to indulge).

And…go!

By eptivity | Posted in Stephan | Comments (10)

Not So Eensy-Weensy

10.30.09 – 13:10

I apologize for the spider-centric posts of late, but I just have this one tiny additional story to tell you. Okay, so remember the previous reference to the annual and prolific spider invasion? It’s now over, thank goodness, but when we got back from the US, I had ten or so spiders to usher outside, and for a few weeks there, two or three new ones every day. I can’t bring myself to kill them, and let’s just say that spider mitigation is 100 percent my responsibility.

ANYWAY, so there we were, minding our own television-watching business, when one of us whimpered and assumed the fetal position. At first I thought it was in response to some horrible thing on television, until I tracked what Stephan was pointing at: the largest spider I’ve ever seen in the wild, maxin’ and relaxin’ under our radiator. He was like practical joke big. His body was about the size of, let’s say, a cashew, and his leg span was easily three inches.

As mentioned, I usually deposit them gently outside, but there was NO WAY this guy was being set free to terrorize us again. Sorry dude, but you must have missed that day of Survival Of The Fittest training: if you grow too big, you become a threat that must be eliminated.

He was too big to smash, and he was too big to fit under the rim of a drinking glass like normal, so I had to catch him under a Gladware container and he was NOT happy. I dropped him in the toilet and he wiggled around for the few seconds it took for me to operate the lever, and then he was gone.

Gone, but not forgotten.

Three repercussions I in no way expected:

Guilt—Most of the spiders I deal with just sit complacently under their glass until I deposit them outside, whereupon they thank me for my graciousness and wave a cheerful goodbye. Whereas this fellow scrambled furiously about and tried to swim his way out of the toilet. I’m pretty sure I heard him call me a name that I can’t repeat here because my mom reads this.

Insomnia—Although this was a good two hours before sleepy time, the adrenaline and the remembered creepiness kept me up for a while.

Irrational Terror—I could not bring myself to use that toilet for the next three days (note to nosey parkers: don’t worry; we have two others).

Stephan and I later discussed how the whole experience was much creepier than, say, finding a tarantula, because as big as the tarantula is, it’s basically a small rodent whose presence is more easily monitored.

We plan on leaving this hypothesis untested.

By eptivity | Posted in Stephan | Comments (2)