Married!

It’s shocking how fast time has gone by and here I sit, a married lady for twelve days! I wish I had written about the wedding earlier, things are already starting to slip away.

For the first week I kept saying, “Dude! We’re married!” until he was sick of hearing it. But then he’d turn around and say, “You’re married to me! How does that feel?” We thought it wouldn’t change anything, getting married, it would still be just us, right? But there’s a definite feeling of being more closely bonded and shmoopy (though maybe that last bit is just on my part). He has a new-found, highly amusing tendency to tell me I have to turn down his side of the bed and have dinner waiting when he gets home. I laugh at him, or hit him, and then eat some peanut butter. It works.

As for the day itself, I’d been worried I’d forgotten to take care of something, or things wouldn’t go smoothly, and of course they didn’t. It wouldn’t be a wedding without things going wonky. From flowers that arrived packed not in boxes but flimsy paper bags, or with half the buds unopened (even to this day), to forgetting I would like an escort to the registry office, things were mildly difficult from the word GO! The car called to take the Moms and a bridesmaid, and the wedding dress and assorted items never showed up, but luck was with us in a roommate who owned a vehicle and hadn’t yet left for the wedding. The registry office was behind schedule and the groom and best man arrived before the wedding dress did, so I was in my riding outfit. A friend of ours from the States (who spent all her monies to get here!) was with me when she noticed them coming, grabbed me and steered me away, yelling at the groom to go away! but was not heeded.

In fact, he eventually came toward me, spoiling plans to keep us apart until the exact moment I walked in the registry office, but that was a foregone conclusion anyway. We ended up meeting in a lovely hug on flagstones, surrounded by friends, and staring at each other for about twenty minutes before the ceremony started, to The C-Quents’ “Dearest One”. This song is so ideal, a melding of his soul music and my doo wop, all wrapped in one perfect tune! With so many of our friends around us, our moms there, this fantastic song, my cheeks hurting because I was smiling so much, we walked in to begin the first steps to married life.

Wedding cake! An amazingly rich, three-tiered, marzipan-covered Guinness-soaked fruit cakestrocity! Apparently fruit cakes are customary at English weddings; I also had a fantastic vanilla cake layered with strawberry mousse and covered in cream cheese frosting, strawberries and silver decorator balls. It was gone in about 2.5 seconds flat but you bet I claimed the first gigantic piece for myself. Well, I did share a bite, as is traditional. And I ate marzipan cycling caps and cogs off the Guinness cake, as well as all I could manage of the richest cake I’ve ever eaten save flourless chocolate torte.

Dancing, drinking, eating, DJs, friends, bikes out the wazoo, we couldn’t have hoped for a better wedding day and reception! It passed in a blur, but at least we have the photos.

Read Full Post »

Day 1

Well, we are in a tiny, adorable attic room in East Dulwich the view of which looks out over south London rooftops and reminds us of a scene from Mary Poppins. I found a small crawl space just outside the room at the landing, which I will be using to get as many boxes as possible out of the room. Some are ok, but he is happy to leave them all piled up on one wall of the room whereas I would like to use the bedside table and not have another sitting out in the middle of the open space we do have. That will happen tomorrow, today we could barely get out of the house in order to mail paperwork he desperately needed to get out. I had trouble sleeping, worries and our flatmate’s television keeping me up. Then it seemed every time I turned over the boyfriend had a knee or an elbow poking me in the back or the side and was sleeping on 2/3 of the bed. We’re all stressed and tetchy but we’re out of the apartment and happier for it. Tonight is the drinks night for Southeast London but I don’t think we should go to it. We spent a ridiculous £50 on Sunday and whenever you go out in London, probably all of England, people buy rounds. Suddenly there’s a pint in front of you and you’ll owe that person somewhere down the line. We seem to owe half the LFGSS forum drinks at this point and it’s getting to be a pain. It also means I drink more than I want to. The boyfriend had to get up at 6:30 a.m. yesterday, ride 40 miles for day work with Rollapalooza and then help move, so was out like a light by 10 p.m. We didn’t get up until 9 a.m. this morning. I wish I’d slept longer. I wish it wasn’t gray and drizzly. I like the mattress in here. I have to go have dinner now.

New True Blood and Weeds to watch tonight.

Read Full Post »

A Query and More

We finally fixed the side gate, the access to our part of the building. It hadn’t been secured since before we moved in and was keeping one of our roommates up at night with the incessant screeeeee-ing and banging in the wind. It’s a pull-style latch and the boyfriend’s worried someone will yank on it too hard and lock themselves out or break it. We decided to put up a sign to that effect and I, of course, immediately knew it needed to be in haiku form. Do you agree? Which of the below proffered signages do you prefer? G’wan, comment to your hearts’ content.

A gentle pull yields
better results than a yank.
A breath, not a gale.

_______
Doors yield to a light
touch of the pull, locking out
those who savage them.

_______
Please don’t yank too hard:
the latch will not function
if broken.

Also: weather’s crap; we had to ride home from Parsons Green to Ealing last night in dreadful rain. My gloves, sweater, pants and shoes are still soaked. Thank god the vans came in the mail today! It was West drinks, moved from The Crabtree to White Horse (the Sloany Pony) in order to be closer to one of our compatriot’s homes – he’s just come out of the hospital after breaking his hip in a fall. We ate delicious burgers and sausages, chitty chatted and then headed over to the nearby home of the man who’d broken his hip. Fell off the bike while going quite slowly: wet tarmac and quick braking (front brake) do not mix. Slight abrasion to right shoulder, hip and knee, left ankle. Good times. The place is pretty wicked and Mr. F makes proper bloody marys. I took one to calm my nerves after the fall, it happened right outside his place.

Read Full Post »

Thank you, Mr. Dude!

In the past few days I’ve taken the tube a lot more than normal. On Sunday, I just couldn’t come up with an easy way to get from Ealing to Camden town, and was running out of time to pick up a bicycle stem (for the boyfriend), so ended up just going on the train. Delays, Camden Town tube station closed for 4 hours (on purpose) when I wanted to go home, more delays on going home. It ended up taking me a total of three hours to get there, pick it up, look in five or six shoe stores for a particular pair of Vans, and get home. Partway through the trip, the Picadilly line shut down going west due to signal failure. Thank god I had just transferred from the Northern line, and it would take me to Embankment, where I could pick up the District line. That was almost fubared, though, until I remembered that District is only closed from Embankment east. Weekends are a bitch for taking the tube in London. Central line, partial closure; Circle line, complete closure; District line, partial closure; and others I don’t use so don’t know of.

Then yesterday I took the Central line to Stratford to see Star Trek for the gloriously low price of £3.50 with O, K & H. We giggled about our campy bartender, drank beers & ate smuggled in chocolate and legally purchased caramel corn. The movie was EXCELLENT, I must strongly advise others to go see it. Since the boyfriend won’t be playing polo for a few weeks (yet again, he fell playing yesterday and has injured himself), maybe we’ll go next week to see it again.

On the way home, delays, delays, then complete closure of the Central line going west from White City. No indication of how to get to points further west that did not include going to West Ruislip (the tube line often splits, you have to know the end point before you get on in case you get sent somewhere you didn’t plan on going). I asked someone and was told to take a bus, outside, to the left, numbers that did not call at the stop I found when I went where directed. Called the boyfriend, freaked out mildly, then got some cash and hailed a cab. It went past me and a dude almost took it. I yelled at him, kinda under my breath, calling him a f-head for stealing my cab.

But then I heard he was going to Ealing Broadway and asked if we could share. This is just not done in England! But in NYC, no one bats an eyelash if you want to cabshare. Anyway, we had a nice chat and he told me I didn’t have to kick in, it turns out that in cases like this you can retain the receipt and claim the expense with TfL. Sweet! So all in all, I got home faster and was dropped off right outside of Ealing Common, thus saving me a 10-15 minute walk. Whee!

I really hate public transport here in London.

Edit: Just bought the shoes through UK Amazon for £5 less than Office. Now I just have to sell the gift card from Office (their form of in-store credit).

Read Full Post »

Project: Get Used To Riding Fixed (and approximate mileage log)

Day 3:
Today was a big day. We met compatriots at The Stonemason’s Arms (4.8 mi) then to the Wilton Arms (1.7 mi) for the LFGSS’s 2nd Birthday party, a lackluster affair due to weather and poor turnout. A short stop in Chinatown for dinner (terrible!!!) then over to Stockwell (approx. 6 mi) for the evening’s festivities.

Gammagoochie! was a success, at least in the respect that a lot of people showed up. We have to increase the number next time and get people out who the organizers don’t know. The Jooks of Kent and The Nuns (all-girl cover band of The Monks) play Saturday, May 2nd, that’s a show I’m really looking forward to. Each of the three organizers took turns spinning soul music, with a little rock & roll thrown in for good measure. The shows are at The Grosvenor, in Stockwell, a 10 mile ride from Ealing.

Mileage Total: 20.5 mi

Day 4:
Ealing to Hackney (with side trip to Stoke Newington), the Polo BBQ event. I was dead tired from the previous day but determined to make it and enjoy myself. I did, albeit I was a tad spacey. We thought we’d end up taking the Underground partway back but b/c of restrictions on taking bicycles into the deep tunnels, we just rode back (20 mi). KNA-ckered!

Mileage Total, four days: approximately 50 miles.

I’m feeling much more comfortable on this setup, surprisingly so, though I do get caught out on occasion taking my foot out of the wrong pedal cage and of course the light changes and I end up looking like an idiot b/c I can’t get the pedal around fast enough to take off without falling off. Haven’t fallen yet. Am on a bad gear ratio, making my knees hurts, and need to change that, ASAP. Before any more long rides. I’m giving myself today off.

Read Full Post »

Bridges Ride IV – LFGSS

Last night I went on my third social ride with the London Fixed Gear Single Speed forum, the Bridges Ride, where the goal is to do all the major bridges in London. I think it was around 22.5 miles and I heard it was quite a bit faster than the last one, probably due to tailwind (as one person suggested) and a significant decrease in attendance. We started out on the west side of London, at Kew Bridge, and ended up at Tower Bridge. I love these giant rides for the views they tend to afford of London – much more than I’d ever do by myself on any given ride. But there is also something absolutely amazing about riding with a large group of other people. Even when you’re not talking to anyone you feel a part of something, there’s this big bubble of other people around you that’s fantastic.

We went over to Brick Lane, had some salt beef “beigels” (wonky British spelling of bagel), then went to Shoreditch and crashed out at our lovely friend’s lovely apartment. The next morning we all got up, had leftover salt beef bagels, leftover beer, then went out for coffee. Then we wended our way around the Brick Lane area handing out fliers for Gammagoochie!, a garage rock/punk/honky tonk night that the boyfriend is involved with. I looked for new plimsolls, considering mine have a hole in the bottom of one, failed, and met a guy to pickup the Campagnolo Record hubset I won in an eBay auction. After heading over to The Victoria and having lunch with O & K and chitty chatting with a friend of theirs, we rode approximately 12 miles home and will now watch an episode or three of Rome.

My dogs are barkin’! But it’s only to the good, I feel the same as I did the last time I rode, this time I rode more and faster

Read Full Post »

(Drankin’) In London

Last night was a surprisingly booze-filled outing to Westies (drinks get-together for those on the London Fixed Gear Single Speed Forum who live in/near West London). Madness, really, by the end of the night I found myself wrestling with someone in the pub! I don’t know what I was thinking, but I was really mad b/c without taking off my earrings, or bracelet, or having a little padding on the floor, I couldn’t go all out.

These past two weeks have been better for me than being in Madrid, I can go out and actually speak to people and though it’s a different culture it’s not quite as different as Spain. The boyfriend is out of school from Thursday to Sunday, we ride our bikes a lot, talk a lot, mess around on the internet and clean house. I’m still trying to wade through the application to register as a social worker trained and qualified outside of the UK. It’s an amazing process. After however many weeks it takes me to gather all the necessary paperwork, fill it out, etc., once I send it in it will be four months before I receive my registration. Only then may I apply for jobs. And if I have the information correct, once I find an agency that is able to sponsor me, I am not guaranteed sponsorship but if I am, they have to submit the paperwork 2 months before start of employ and I must leave the country for no less than 6 weeks. *sigh* It is ridiculous to have so much red tape surrounding a field for which they’re desperate to find more workers.

And since I’m here on a tourist visa I might possibly have to leave the country before I find work, in which case I’ll have to come back, find work and then leave again. I think. But I am trying to do everything by the book so as not to jeopardize my chances of receiving the proper papers and legal standing here.

I’ve purchased a new (used) bicycle frame, we’re going to build it up in the coming weeks. It’s a Joe Waugh and I’ve decided to repaint her and call her Evelyn. I’ve found the original Evelyn’s signature online and plan to have a decal made of it to put on the top tube just at the juncture with the seat tube. It came in the mail this morning at the ungodly hour of 8:15 and we’ve been up ever since, despite tying one on last night. I feel a disco nap is in order so we may be prepared for the housewarming party tonight but since I’m sitting here with a cup of coffeerocket fuel I doubt that will happen.

Can’t wait to see the mix of people we amass tonight, there are people from the forum, some of the boyfriend’s classmates, O & K, and our female roommate’s friends. There will be tacos, guac, salsa, indian rice (brought by an attendee, made by her mom), and other bits and bobs. Our lovely attendees will be bringing booze, so except for the Drambuie the boyfriend mistook for some sort of whiskey, we aren’t contributing much of anything in that area.

The painting of the bedroom is mostly done, it’s a rich robin’s egg blue, there are just a few more places I missed when filling holes in the wall; will do those soon then paint them over.

Read Full Post »

Oh haaaayyyy, Lisbon!

A friend I met here, D, and I went to Lisbon this weekend. It was three days/four nights of happy exuberance. We cracked ourselves up, laughing so hard we cried, saw various, wonderful things, ate wonderful food, spoke in Espantugese and played “spot the drug dealer” on Rua do Sao Augusto. It’s not hard. They’re in their 50s or older, shifty, wear sports coats and make eye contact and beelines at the tourists. No, thank you.

More later, when I’ve downloaded pictures and reconstructed events.

Read Full Post »

Things I Have Learned About London, pt. 1

– Yes, we know that they drive on the left-hand side of the road. But did you know that foot traffic on escalators, in hallways, and often even on sidewalks moves on the left-hand side, too? Look right, look left, look right again, not vice versa, is what children are taught to do before crossing the street. Keep Left, not Keep Right in the Underground (not called the subway, ever). Londoners I’ve queried on this don’t seem to notice it, but I guess that’s because they’re used to it. I kept feeling like a salmon going upstream and finally realized it was because I was trying to Keep Right. Then when I got back to Madrid I almost entered an up escalator to go down because it was on the left.

– Ridiculously, they buy gas (petrol) in liters but use miles, obviously measuring speed in mph.

– British beer is way better than Spanish beer. Hands down. And cheaper.

– Books are cheap. Or I should say cheap in comparison to in Spain. They are at American prices and big chain companies often have huge deals on multiple purchases, on the order of 4 for 3. I assumed that meant 4 for £3. Often 2 for £20 or 3 for £18.

– British teenagers can be frightening in a way I’ve never been frightened of New York City teenagers. There is a palpable feeling that they will cheerfully beat you to pieces as soon as tell you off in a confrontational-yet-not-inherently-dangerous manner.

– The food there is really quite a lot better than I expected. Meat pies at pubs can be unbelievably delicious, even though probably frozen pies reheated on the premises. That really surprised me. Oh, and mushy peas are fantastic, not a sentiment I would have immediately expected from the description.

– Gravity is somehow stronger on the second level of a London Double Decker. It is necessary to hold on TIGHTLY when walking down the stairs, I’ve been nearly thrown down them by an unexpected stop or curve in the road.

– Riding in London is scarier than any riding I’ve ever encountered in NYC, and not just because of the left-hand driving, must look to the right first thing, but because many London drivers just don’t seem to give a crap about anyone in the road but themselves.

– I like London better than I thought I would have.

Read Full Post »

Out On the Town

Last Friday I had my first proper outing, Spanish style. My roommate invited me out to meet a few of her friends at a bar near Puerta del Sol, a cute little joint whose bar was positively lined with jarras of sangria ready to be slurped down by those brave enough to venture out in the snow. Yes, that’s right, I said snow! It’s snowed in Madrid, and surprisingly as far south as Málaga, several times in the past week.

The snow was fodder enough for the beginning of the conversation. I was able to follow most of what was being said but there were times when I’d fade out, exhausted from the effort, only to drift back in, now able to understand, but with no concept of the subject at hand. But this is what I gathered over the evening: conversations everywhere are exactly the same. We talked about the weather, we bitched about traffic, we discussed politics, and we laughed. The highlight of the night for me was realizing that about 80% of the time that I contributed, no one looked at me like I was talking like I was from Mars. I got nearly all my points across, even in semi-complicated topics, and was well pleased.

Next stop, a smaller bar in the area that I’d never seen on a street I didn’t remember, in an area the boyfriend and I had traipsed through millions of times but must have kept to the same few tracks. 5€ mojitos were the boast of the bar but I was much happier seeing the shiny silver bowl of maíz frito (corn nuts!) sitting out, pretty as you please.

And even more so by what turned out to be a necklace of felt poppies worn by another bar patron and made by her grandmother.

Going out at 8:30 p.m. is fabulous. You can have four hours of drankin’, snackin’ & chattin’ and still be home before the metro closes for the night. Must do it again soon.

Oh, right. Central and North Americans: apparently a sizeable population of Spain thinks that México is part of North America. What say you? Apparently there is no definitive answer to this debate.

Read Full Post »