Want to be a free thinker but still a nice person

Everyone wants photo approval now

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Sun, 20 May 2012 19:00:00 +0000

It used to be only celebrities could be fussy about their photos and demand to see them first before they were published and give their approval. Now everybody is doing it. I can't put up anything on Facebook that hasn't been pre-approved by the people appearing in it, or I get politely told off.

This photo of me and a friend whose name I can't put here is probably the only thing I can put up without getting in trouble.

But you know, I'm the same way. I probably would have put a real photo of me on this blog now if all the ones taken of me recently weren't so awful. (double chin, wrinkles and god knows what else)

I had an exciting week -- my friends visited from America, I started rehearsals for a performance of the Dream of Gerontius in Hamburg later this year and my brother cut me out of his life totally and forever and I'm not sure why.

My brother cuts me off

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Tue, 15 May 2012 08:31:00 +0000

I received an email from one of my brothers in America this morning that said:

"I’m kicking you out of my life, don’t communicate with me again."

I don't even know what he's upset about. I thought if I told you guys about it, I would feel a little lighter. Thanks for letting me unload.

Now you can see why I moved to England long ago.

Removing the 'Produced in Australia' tag from apples

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Sat, 12 May 2012 12:59:00 +0000

I had lunch with the girls yesterday at a very nice farm shop. The prices were a bit steep but, you know, it's all local produce and worth it, eh? Here we are about to eat. (I bought a t-shirt to wear for the Queen's Diamond Jubilee day on the 3rd of June and was just wearing it to see how it fit. It was a bit lurid for a trip to the farm shop, though, I realize now.)

Anyway, I bought the most delicious food to take home and cook. We just grilled Stilton and mango hamburger patties from there -- delish.

I was telling other friends about the farm shop today at breakfast, and one of my pals said, "I had a friend who used to work at that farm shop. One of her jobs was to remove all the 'Made in Australia' tags from the fruit."

Argh! Who can you trust in this world if even the trusty local farm shop lies to you?

Yoga teacher wants to kill me

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Thu, 10 May 2012 15:42:00 +0000

I went to an Ashtanga yoga class today, and it was clear the teacher wanted me to die -- why else would she think I could stay upside down for five minutes then shoot my legs out under my arms and into a sitting position all in one movement? Or go into a half-lotus position standing up then bend over and touch the floor? Impossible.

We sat in a lotus position with our hands in Namaste position and all chanted OM at the same time. It was so soothing. The teacher said to dedicate our practice to someone who needed positive energy sent her way so I thought of my daughter Katie, who is so stressed out at medical school.

Here she was yesterday at Trafalgar Square. Notice the huge fountains there are silent. They've been stopped because we have an official drought in England. A drought! It's rained non-stop since Easter. We are drowning in water but we have signs all around saying, WE ARE IN DROUGHT. PLEASE CONSERVE WATER.

I hate Reading buses

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Wed, 09 May 2012 18:03:00 +0000

I went to London today. I have to go on a bus in Reading first though. That's always a pleasure. Today I heard this conversation.

Little boy (5) to his sister (3): "I want to kill a policeman! Police -- they should die." (Bet he's heard his dad say that a lot after being arrested.)

Mother (texting, never looking up): "Stop saying that shit."

Boy coughs.

Mother (texting, never looking up): "If you do that again, I'll slap you silly."

I wanted to run over the cyclists in London

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Mon, 30 Apr 2012 16:53:00 +0000

We went to London on Saturday to celebrate my daughter's birthday but there was a huge protest by cyclists over their road rights, and we couldn't get to the restaurant on time. We drove around for hours, getting more frustrated by the minute. "Just smash into them," I advised my husband, before falling silent and feeling guilty.

Finally we made it to the restaurant and ate. This time I didn't trip on the step and fall flat on my face in front of all the posh diners like I did the last time we were at this snooty place.

Happy Birthday, Katie. (That's her BF in the background.)

Virginia's Rome tips

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 15:23:00 +0000

My Italian friend Virginia found out we are going to Rome in June and sent me some insider tips. I'll share with you for your future Roman holidays.

Virgi wrote:

You're going to Rome, caput mundi.

Here are some tips:

1. There is one of the best place on earth for pizza in rome. It's called pizzarium, the owner, Gabriele Bonci, is very famous in Italy as he's a master in his art. It's a great take-away (the last time I went there there weren't many seats and it was full of people), good selected ingredients, and also the beer is great.

2. Ice cream is good everywhere in Italy, but one of my favorite one is Grom: they have 2 shops in Rome. Not as many flavours as other places, but every month there is a "Flavor of the month" and the whipped cream is real whipped cream, i.e. not coming from a spray bottle.

3. If you want to taste real Rome food, go for the Jewish ghetto, as people lived there since Romans time and through all the ages. If you go in the area of Via del Portico d'Ottavia you will find a lot of Kosher restaurants, patisserie and bakeries...

4. Catacombs? http://www.catacombe.roma.it/en/index.php are a bit out of the way. There is also a necropolis below St. Peter's but belongs to the Vatican and I'm not sure how and where you can book a visit.

There is so much to see in Rome that I don't know where to begin, but I think that St. Peter's is a must, it truly takes your breath away.

And a stroll in Via Vittorio Veneto at sunset or in the evening, just like in La Dolce Vita. And trastevere, too..

I guilt-trip my way into a boys' trip to Rome

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 09:33:00 +0000

My son wants to use the money he's made working at an NHS helpline to go to Italy for a few days. He declared it a boys' trip only and invited his father to go with him.

I have been completely Christian about it. "That's great," I said. "You guys go and have fun. Knock yourselves out talking about sports and science the whole time."

Then last week, their trip planning intensified. I heard about a visit to the Vatican, breaks for lemoncello and gelato. When I heard them planning a trip to an Italian beach outside of Rome, my unselfishness weakened.

"It's been raining for weeks," I said. "When you all are gone, I'll be all alone. It'll be raining outside still, and you'll be on a sunny beach." My husband said, "I think you should come with us."

I was so relieved. "Mikey will never allow it," I replied. "Let's work on him. When we have lunch, you bring it up gently, like it's all your idea." My husband nodded.

I made my son's favorite lunch on Sunday -- fried chicken (I bake it in the oven so it's healthier) and little potato slices, cooked until they are crispy. "This food is so good," he said as he ate. I kicked my husband under the table. Now was a good time to introduce the subject of me going with them to Rome.

"Um, Mikey," my husband said. "I was thinking, it might be nice to take Mommy along on our trip." My son put down his chicken leg abruptly.

I was ready for this -- "Mikey," I said, "I will sign a Terms and Conditions contract saying I won't have any opinions on the trip about what we do, where we go or what we eat. It'll be like I'm not even there! You can take the contract with us and wave it in my face if I start to have opinions on the trip."

"She won't even speak unless spoken to first," my husband added helpfully. Mikey thought about it for a while then said, "OK, she can go, but she has to pay her own way."

I miss human contact

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 12:36:00 +0000

I know it must seem great on paper -- a company puts you on leave with full pay and gives you training to do other things. But it's hard to lose all the people you worked with, all the background noise in your life. I actually miss listening to colleagues discussing boring work issues loudly near my desk.

I'm at home now with a kid to keep up with and stuff to do, but I miss the large group of people around me everyday. I have tried to see local friends some but then you only get one or two people at a time, and I like to have a swarm of them around. And you can't really trade insults with personal friends like you can with office pals. I miss that too.

I came back to the office today to get a haircut and go to the gym, and I was excited to see all the people I knew again, even people I hadn't even particularly liked. I stopped most everyone I knew and talked to them. I talked too much -- I could see the surprised look on their faces -- but I explained to them that I hadn't had much human contact in the past few weeks so I had to talk.

One guy at the gym seemed shocked when I touched his arm then gave him a hug and said excitedly, "Yay, human contact!"

Going to ask Elvis if he knows of any jobs around

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Tue, 20 Mar 2012 10:33:00 +0000

I have to leave my job at Nokia at the end of next week. Looming unemployment, combined with my recent trip to Mississippi, must have made me dream about both things. In my dream, I made a note to call Elvis to see if he knew of any jobs coming up that I could do.

Dreams are so limitless in possibilities. Once I woke up, my world was narrowed by cold reality, and I realized this avenue of job exploration was just not going to happen. Still, it would have been nice to be able to call up Elvis.

Money is like sea water. The more you drink, the thirstier you become

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Tue, 13 Mar 2012 11:10:00 +0000

Just finished reading the excellent The Fall of the House of Zeus. The book is about Dick Scruggs, a Mississippi trial lawyer famed for taking on Big Tobacco but later brought down by his own corruption. The Romans were right: 'Money is like sea water. The more you drink, the thirstier you become.'

I especially enjoyed reading this book because I bought it in Oxford, Mississippi, when we were visiting there with my friend Liza. My daughter Katie is in Mississippi doing a medical rotation, and I wanted her to grow to love the South.

Here are Katie and Liza browsing at Square Books in Oxford.

I shouldn't have worried about Katie not liking the South where I grew up. Every day she puts up more envy-making photos of her adventures in Mississippi and New Orleans until I can barely contain my envy.

I think I saw my boss the other day or was that Elvis?

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Fri, 09 Mar 2012 14:50:00 +0000

Life at an office that is closing is so relaxing. All political in-fighting ceases, and your boss never shows up anymore.

I thought I had a sighting of my boss the other day, but it could have been Elvis; it's such a rare occurrence anyway.

My company is being so nice to its layoffs though. Nokia has set aside a part of one of the offices to be used by former employees who are starting their own businesses.

It's called the Enterprise Zone, and you would think it would be full of creative people bursting with vision and energy for future projects.

But the reality is that it's more deserted than, well, a desert island. See?

I wonder where all the enterprising people went?

Little Joe had keys to cities but now city park threw away his plaque

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Wed, 07 Mar 2012 16:07:00 +0000

I bought a mag from 1966 in America last week that had the cast of Bonanza on the cover. My husband and I watch these re-runs sometimes just for nostalgic fun.

The cover article follows the Bonanza cast as they do gigs for state fairs to make some extra money (but they were all millionaires from the show and other business ventures already). Little Joe, in particular, is hounded by fans and given awards at every opportunity. The actor Michael Landon says he would like to see his family more but has to capitalize on his fame. He wants to make as much money as possible while he can.

He receives the keys to so many cities that he barely knows what to do with them. Flash forward 40 years to an article I read the other week. It quoted Landon's outraged third wife as she voiced her fury at a city park in California throwing out a plaque honoring her husband. See, nobody really knows who Michael Landon even is anymore so when the park repainted, it just trashed his honor.

Do I even need to tell you the lesson to learn from this? Fame is fleeting, and money isn't everything. Little Joe died an early death from cancer, and his family fought over his millions after death. Don't you think if he'd known this was going to happen, he would have relaxed a bit more and had fun with his kids?

(And I don't even want to mention Hoss Cartwright, who was played by Dan Blocker. He died a mere five years after the original article was written. You know he wouldn't have wasted his time on weekend state-fair gigs if he'd known his life was going to be so short.)

Big job interview today & I accidentally ate red onions for lunch

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Tue, 06 Mar 2012 12:37:00 +0000

I had the most wonderful trip to America to take my daughter over to do a pediatrics placement. I only took her to 'make sure she was all right,' of course.

It was so warm in America, and I came back to snow in England. I'm trying to get back into work this week but my brain is fuzzy.

I have an interview at Visa this afternoon but didn't think when I ate RED ONIONS with my sandwich at lunch. I'm just going for an emergency tooth brushing session now. Oh no! How could I have been so stupid?

British Royals advertising for someone to start baths for them

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Sun, 12 Feb 2012 11:59:00 +0000

Monarchy lovers don't understand why some of us view them as parasites on the taxpayers.

A good example of why we think this appeared on their employment website this week. Apparently they want someone who can run the bath for them, getting the water temperature just so before their royal toes step in.

You can apply for the job here:
Working for the Royal Household

(Princess Margaret scalded herself by getting in bath water that was too hot when she was drunk so maybe that's why they've created these royal positions.)

My son gets sticker shock

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 22:49:00 +0000

My son Mikey has a job on Saturdays handling calls for the National Health Service. His bank account has slowly built up, and last week he announced that he was taking the family out to dinner, and he would pay for it.

We were so excited. A free meal! Mikey said to get whatever we wanted so we ordered starters and a main course. And I had a Chinese beer...or two.

At the end of the meal, the waiter brought the bill to Mikey, and he learned how to enter the PIN code into the little machine.

But before that, he had his first case of sticker shock. Here he is as he sees the total bill for the first time:

My husband told him that this would be the first of many similar experiences in his life.

Thinking you're going to die during exercise class

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 14:02:00 +0000

You know how you're in the middle of a hard exercise class and think you are going to die first, that you'll never get through it?

I thought that today in my spinning class then glanced over to where my friend Steve used to be. He came to the class every Monday, even when he was having chemo. He died a few weeks ago.

I looked at his spot and remembered how he used to complain when the teacher sneaked in an extra song for us to cycle to. "Only one more, right?" he asked hopefully. It was a joke, him asking that every week even though we all wanted the class to end earlier than it did.

So now he's dead and doesn't have to worry about how many songs are left. And when I think the usual thought of how I'd rather die than finish the strenuous exercise routines, well, it doesn't seem so light-hearted anymore.

One final attempt then finito

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 14:05:00 +0000

I'm going to try and learn Bridge ONE MORE TIME then I'm giving up forever. My bridge attempts have always ended in tears (mine). I decided to start from scratch so I enrolled in an all-day beginner's class near Henley yesterday. Here's Jon Greene teaching a couple of the attendees.

I did get some concepts I'd never understood before like the principles of overcalling so maybe this time I'll crack it. We'll see.

Friday night I went to my friend Elise's for a birthday dinner. Here we are:

We had a fun time except a couple of my friends love to use alternative medicine that's unproven, and I'm a traditional-medicine type of person so we have little disagreements about that.

Last night the sky was heavy with snow -- it looked ominous then began to fall as I was driving home from my bridge course. I hurried home and started a fire. After dinner, we all sat in a softly lit room and watched the snow fall outside our bay window. It was magical.

Just in case they Google their names

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 13:51:00 +0000

I went to a play last night, and later took a photo of the main actor, the playwright, a good friend and another man who writes and acts too. I don't have any of them as Facebook friends; they aren't on Twitter or LinkedIn. I don't know their emails or snail mail addresses. What to do? How can I show them this fab photo?

Then I had a clever idea. I'll put it on my blog and list their names. I'll bet you one of them will do a Google on his own name in the future and they'll see this pic.

The guys in the photo are Chris Blakeley, Justin Butcher, Andrew Harrison and Murray Watts. Now I'll just wait and see what happens....

Here are a few of us before dinner. Mel and I were late because no trains were running from Reading. Finally we got on a stopping train that took hours and was jam packed. A woman sat across from us and talked non-stop. Her voice had a grating edge to it that made her verbal diarrhea much harder to bear. And it wasn't as if she was saying anything that was even remotely interesting.

"For all my faults," I said to my husband as we suffered through the trip, "at least I'm not boring." (He had to agree.)

We finally arrived at Paddington, too late to eat with our friends at their trendy restaurant in Islington, so we had to buy some Burger King in a bag and eat it while running to catch the underground.

We just had time for a drink and to pose for a silly photo before the play:

I got a bit out of hand after the play. I was so excited to be hanging out with artists that I got over-excited. (Plus one of the guys took a couple of bottles of wine into the theater, and we helped ourselves during the play.) One of the women there is a documentary maker, and I'd just seen her latest effort on TV without knowing who made it. When I realized who she was, I fawned over her with excitement.

I work with computer geeks all day, every day, so when I run across a bunch of creative people, I can get a little out of control. (I'm calmer today.)

This isn't a Holiday Inn

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 12:59:00 +0000

As a good mother and wife, I have little trash cans placed all over the house so my dear family can dispose of used items easily. But that doesn't mean they can throw large amounts in a small bin and just walk away, expecting some cleaner to come along later and empty it.

My husband threw a bunch of papers and books into a little trash can one day then walked out of the room.

"Who do you think is going to empty that?" I inquired sweetly. "This isn't a Holiday Inn, you know. No one is going to magically appear and clean all this up after you."

Now that's one of our favorite phrases to use. My son drinks vast quantities of water and throws the bottles in his bedroom bin, and they pile up for years before anyone finds them.

My husband remonstrated with him one day. "This isn't a Holiday Inn, you know," I heard him say. (that made me smile; at least my husband has internalized my message)

But last night, my son filled his bin up to overflowing again. So he thought he'd be clever and write a note to go with it that he realized this wasn't a Holiday Inn but could I throw it away for him anyway? Of course I did and took a pic to show you.

Electrocuting an Elephant

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 15:38:00 +0000

I watched the grisly footage of Edison's electrocuting an elephant to prove that AC electricity was dangerous last night on TV.

(Poor Topsy!)

Edison was single-minded in his contention that only DC electricity would work. It reminded me of a talk I'd attended earlier in the day where an entrepreneur read some lines from W.H. Murray, a mountain climber during World War 2. He wrote:

... but when I said that nothing had been done I erred in one important matter. We had definitely committed ourselves and were halfway out of our ruts. We had put down our passage money— booked a sailing to Bombay. This may sound too simple, but is great in consequence. Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets:

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!

The entrepreneur's point was that you have to be fully committed to your idea, and after that point, you can do great things. But I'm sure he didn't mean be so sure of your idea that you electrocute an elephant to prove it.

Working in a blue-chip cocoon

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 11:54:00 +0000

I've been working in such a blue-chip cocoon for the past six years. Working at Nokia's HQ in England with its on-site gym and classes, hairdresser, varied restaurants and delis, I've had it so good. You can even bring in all your Christmas presents, and the concierge will wrap them for you. All you need to do is put them under the tree and wait for the kids to wake up on Christmas morning.

I can have all my packages and mail delivered here, and a nice man brings them to my desk for me to sign for them. But I'm being laid off, so must leave my lovely workstyle this year.

I had my first day of post-Nokia reality on Friday. I went to pitch for some writing work (it would be for Interpol; how cool is that?), and after the meeting, a young guy sidled up to me and asked a bit snidely, "And where did we get you from?"

I'm not used to that. He doesn't know my work history or my current position. He just thinks I'm some Southern hick with not much of a writing portfolio coming in to steal some work. This was the first time I'd tried to get work without my protective Nokia badge and identity protecting me, and I felt exposed.

Later that day, a guy knocked on the door to deliver some fertilizer that the gardener had ordered. I didn't know anything about it, and he treated me like shit because he thought it was OK to do that to me -- was it because I was at home on a work day so maybe I'm powerless?

I felt like the day had been a Reality Check -- one of my first days without my Nokia badge around my neck to protect me like a rosary.

It's going to be tough to be an ex-Nokian. I am not looking forward to it.

Did you know Steve?

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 21:05:00 +0000

I was on my crutches trying to get to a 10:00 meeting at the office today when a guy I met on my project-management course last week spoke to me.

"Did you know Steve?" he asked.

I suddenly felt weak. "Why did you say DID?" I asked, knowing before I finished the sentence that my friend who had been battling cancer was dead.

What a terrible way to hear the news. This guy had no idea that Steve was a good friend of mine and that I'd been one of the first people he'd told about his cancer diagnosis. He'd kept coming into work even through chemo - and he was always on the bike next to mine at spinning class at the office gym. And we used to tease him when he toppled over doing the balancing part of Pilates class (this was before he was ill -- we didn't tease him after that).

When he first told me he had a tumor, well, I never thought he would die from it just a few months later.

It's so upsetting to everyone who knew him. He was so kind, always cheerful, never complained about his lot, ever. Now I have to walk past his desk every day, and he won't be there ever again.

Kitchen Confidential: Bourdain's view of vegetarians

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 15:53:00 +0000

Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly by chef Anthony Bourdain is the perfect book to read when you're at home with a broken foot taking pain killers. It's abrasive and completely unsubtle. There's no hidden plot to figure out, no imagery or metaphors. Take for example, his view of vegetarians:

Vegetarians, and their Hezbollah-like splinter faction, the vegans, are a persistent irritant to any chef worth a damn....Vegetarians are the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit, an affront to all I stand for, the pure enjoyment of food. The body, these waterheads imagine, is a temple that should not be polluted by animal protein. It's healthier, they insist, though every vegetarian waiter I've worked with is brought down by any rumor of a cold.

These sort of books and the National Enquirer is about all I can handle reading this week.

Taking no chances on Fri the 13th -- staying in bed

noreply@blogger.com (Elizabeth) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 10:02:00 +0000

I have enough accidents as it is -- breaking two feet in one year in separate incidents -- so on Friday the 13th, I'm not even getting out of bed.

My doctor told me to rest this week and take my painkillers but I had to go into the office to take a Prince2 project management course. It involved lots of studying at night too. Finally yesterday I had to throw the towel in and say I wasn't coming in for the advanced exam work. I did pass the foundation exam, but barely -- with the worst marks in the entire class. But still, when I took my lunch break, the first thing I did was update my LinkedIn profile to say "Prince2 qualified."

(It's dog-eat-dog in our capitalist world. I'm losing my job at Nokia soon so I need any qualification I can get to put on my CV/resume.)