Weekends

I really love weekends in London. I took a hiatus the last few weeks from doing anything on the weekend, and that was a needed break, but I forgot what I was missing! There's so many different things to do - yesterday I wandered down to Portobello Market and met a friend, we had a drink at a little pub, met another one of her friends, walked on to Whole Foods Market (have I mentioned how much I love that place?? It turns the supermarket into an experience!) and ate a bite there. Then my flatmate was on the same street shopping, so I met up with her and then we took the bus home.

The other American in the office here is transferring back and moving to NC, so her 'leaving do' was last night. That's one of those British phrases I love - "going away party" is maybe more plain of an expression, but much longer. I still laugh when I say "leaving do" though. Anyway, I was so tired I didn't get there until almost 10, and left after the pub closed at 11. I had just read this article on Brit's and the cultural norm of buying drinks, which I am used to now, but still just doesn't really work for me. I rarely have more than one drink a night, so I wind up either feeling guilty I'm not carrying my weight because I'm never going up to the bar to buy drinks for myself or anyone else, or buying a round and never getting a round bought for me. which is fine I guess, I shouldn't over-analyze it, usually everything works out. I sometimes just find it's awkward to not drink on pace with everyone when you're out in a group.

Today was not at all what I planned. I woke up early, with a headache, and then was really stressing about work and other things, completely irrationally. I finally got up and made myself a big, fat, unhealthy breakfast because I just felt like it. :) Eggs, biscuits, jam. Yum. It wasn't so bad I guess, but considering I'm still supposedly on a really strict diet...not so perfect.
At least it filled me up until way late in the afternoon!

Just before I left to go running, our landlord calls to ask if he can come by and talk to all of us. That's four people, and trying to get us all together is next to impossible, but Sunday is usually the best chance, and so we all eventually were awake and said he could come at 3:30. We are all more than a little nervous, he wouldn't say on the phone what was wrong, so we're thinking they want the house back? They don't like us? They're blaming us for damage of some sort? what the heck!?! This then starts an hour long cleaning frenzy that left the place spotless, just in case they were going to say something about it not being in good enough condition.

But no, nothing like that. They're selling the house. And if the buyers don't want to rent, we have to move. Nice.

He did offer to let us buy at a discounted price. But even with the four of us splitting the mortgage, which is actually easy to do here - thanks to an insane housing market where single people can't buy anything so the laws are made to help you buy with friends - it's still way more than I can justify paying just to not have to move. And I'd have to sell my US house to make it happen, and it's just not the right time for any of this. It's a shame, we all really love this house!

Google thinks I'm German

I think Google sometimes outsmarts itself. A large part of my job is working with our German ISBN offering and thus 'reading' German emails, getting translations from German co-workers, downloading German books, etc. So now when I search for something on Google, I get 50% German pages in return, with German text describing the results! It's pretty funny. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me I should learn German instead of Spanish...hmm...interesting, especially when you add the fact that I hang out a lot with a friend who is German, and one of my flatmates grew up in Germany. Maybe Google satellites are linked to searches too, and my blog, so that it's all this huge connected big brother conspiracy... :D

I had another incredible weekend - it's all a bit much, I keep wondering what I did to just make everything suddenly click into place and be awesome! I went out after work on friday with co-workers to a local pub, then found out it was the birthday of a guy I had met a couple weeks ago, so I went along to that and had a blast. Met some really cool people, including a guy who I started talking to about golf for some reason. He goes, "I don't know how spontaneous you are, but I'm going with a friend of mine to play tomorrow and you're welcome to come"! So of course I jump at the chance, get up Saturday morning and unpack my golf clubs from storage - creating a flurry of bubble wrap, newspaper and golf balls, burying my room in a mess it has just barely recovered from. Then I brave the Notting Hill weekend crowd of tourists, trying to injure as few as possible with my flailing irons, make it onto the tube, and ride 45 minutes across London to get to Essex, where my new friend picks me up and off I go for a beautiful day in the sun, playing well and then awful, with nice views of the English countryside. It was lovely. :)

Headed home around 6, quite tired and happy - fortunately the crowds had subsided so I had less trouble maneuvering my way through the tube stations and buses. When I walked in the door, my flatmate was just about to go meet some friends for dinner, so I quickly changed and had some nice Italian food outside on Portobello road, ending with tiramisu and espresso, then stopped by where one of the guys was DJ-ing and had a drink and a dance...finally back just before ten to shower and collapse. It's amazing how much I crammed into 24 hours!

Sunday was another gorgeous day, so I went to Greenwich with a friend and chilled out in the park, saw the meridian, the Queen's House, the Thames, went to the market, got some ice cream, threw the frisbee, bought Harry Potter finally and read the first chapter out loud - that was fun, brought back all these memories of reading aloud in the car with my family on road trips. :) Finished the day at nice pub on the patio for a cider and fish and chips, then headed back home, again, just before 10 - this time to clean up the disaster zone that was my room.

And now I'm back at work...using my lunch break to daydream about being outside. It really stinks that I have to put in the 40hours staring at a computer screen to be able to enjoy the fascinating life that is London...ah well, it's worth it I guess.