Monday, September 13, 2010

Crazy Beautiful Life

Warning: This isn't a real post.  Just a filler post to let you know that one day when my life slows down I will post again.  And it will include things such as...

  • Me deciding last minute to fly to Bulgaria to train at a high altitude training camp with my boxing gym, Rocky Balboa style.  not kidding.
  • Me coming back from Bulgaria to find my flat robbed blind and all the fun that has since ensued.
  • Me having to find a new flat asap since the burgler was my upstairs neighbor
  • Me boxing a big british broad in front of 500 people in two weeks. what am i thinking
  • Me taking a last minute, 36 hour, jaunt over to Copenhagen for the weekend
I'm sure there is plenty more I have left out, but that should keep me busy for a while.  In the mean time I am spending every moment of every waking hour for the next two weeks planning all of the final details for a big work conference I am in charge of that is only a week away (gulp), training at the gym for my fight at least 4 times a week, trying to find a new flat to move to and packing my old flat.  As if I wasn't busy enough...thanks you punk 16 year old that has no respect for other people's property.

All that said, I am still keeping a smile on my face and loving my life!

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Boxing Debacle

I'm lazy so this is a cut and paste from my Facebook invite.  Don't worry, if you can't swing the trip to London, I'll make sure there is a video posted on YouTube.

debacle n. A sudden, disastrous collapse, downfall, or defeat; a rout. A total, often ludicrous failure

Mark your calendars.... In a moment lacking any sort of judgement, I have agreed to box in a White Collar Fight night. No friends, you did not just misread that sentence. I have been boxing (for fitness purposes) at Rooney's Boxing Gym for the past 4 months and they have managed to wear me down and convince me to subject myself to what I am sure will be sheer embarrassment for myself and unadulterated pleasure for all of you.

 
I will have more details in the next few weeks, but the event will be somewhere in the London Bridge area after work on Sept. 22nd. I think tickets will be around 20-30 quid, let me know if you're in and I'll find out more about tickets.


I'm still working on my "ring" name...any suggestions are welcome ;)
 
I've been working on my "mean" face
 

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Fighting Fit Update

If you remember my post from a couple of months ago, you'll know we were doing a Biggest Loser competition at work.  Well the competition has ended and I WON!! I won £620, but even more exciting I lost 6.5% of my body weight, which is a little more than half of my total goal!  I think I could have done even better if I hadn't spent almost 3 weeks in Texas eating Mexican food during part of the competition!  The three biggest contributors to my success were my boxing, my Lose It app on my iPhone and the fact that I didn't "diet". 

I absolutely LOVE my boxing gym! I finally found a work out that I can stick with.  I love how competitive it is and the small "family" feel of the gym keeps me going back 3 times a week.  I will admit, the morning of the final weigh in, I went to the gym for a 7 am work out with Mick and he made me wear a trash bag under my shirt so I would sweat more.  I little gross, but I lost almost 2 lbs (probably just water weight) that morning right before the weigh in!  Oh, and they are also trying to convince me to fight in a real fight at a White Collar Boxing event in September....eek!!!

I am obsessed with the Lose It! app on the iPhone!  It is so easy to track your calories and your goals.  The only bummer is that is is all American restaurants, so I usually just have to find something similar, but it is still really helpful.  One of my biggest problems before, I think, was that I was so confused as to why I had put on weight.  I really didn't think that I ate that bad or that much, but once I started tracking it I was shocked at how badly I was actually eating. It was nice to put it in perspective!  Plus I LOVE adding exercise each day and getting more calories. I have found that I have been walking everywhere a lot more lately just so I can press the add exercise button and get a few extra calories!

As for dieting, I decided not to do it this time.  In the past I have used both Weight Watchers and Atkins to lose weight.  While I was successful in the end goal, I found that neither were sustainable for long periods of time and as soon as I went off of the diet I went right for all of the things I have been deprived of.  This time I just went for reduced calories and exercise.  I didn't deprive myself of anything.  If I wanted a candy bar I had one, I just made sure I exercised that day enough to work it off.  I did cut out drinking during the week, but with this year as one of the best British summers...I couldn't manage to cut myself off on the weekends :) I also started cooking for myself again.  When I moved to my new flat I started eating almost every meal out, since I don't have much in the way of a kitchen.  But really I was just being lazy.  So I am back to cooking my meals for the week on Sundays. 

Everyone asked what I am going to do with my winnings, but since I owed a lot of money to the IRS this year, my macbook got stolen and I JUST smashed my iPhone screen (yesterday, ugh!!) I think the funds are already allocated :/

Monday, July 5, 2010

Summer Reading List

I seem to go through serious phases with reading.  I'll go for several months without picking a book up, when I try I can only get through a page or two before I lose interest...and then one day it will just flip and I'll read incessantly for a few months.  Then it is gone, just as suddenly as it came.  Well I have been OFF the written word here for the past few months in a bad way.  I have 3 books on my nightstand, that I really want to read, but I have only managed to get a few pages into each before I try another one to see if I can get into that one, to no avail.  Last week I met my friend Meg for lunch.  She and I share the same affinity for travel and she took me to this amazing bookstore that is three stories of ONLY travel literature.  It seems that my idea to go travel the world and then write about it has already been done a time or two!  They were having a 'buy 3 for the price of 2' special and before I knew it I was at the checkout counter with SIX books (but for the price of 4!).    It's going to be hard to keep my wanderlust in check with a summer reading list like this......



By examining the true story of Chris McCandless, a young man, who in 1992 walked deep into the Alaskan wilderness and whose SOS note and emaciated corpse were found four months later, internationally bestselling author Jon Krakauer explores the obsession which leads some people to explore the outer limits of self, leave civilization behind and seek enlightenment through solitude and contact with nature. "An astonishingly gifted writer: his account of 'Alex Supertramp' is powerfully dramatic, eliciting sympathy for both the idealistic, anti-consumerist boy - and his parents" - "Guardian". "A compelling tale of tragic idealism" - "The Times".



Ever since Stanley first charted its mighty river in the 1870s, the Congo has epitomised the dark and turbulent history of a failed continent - from colonial cruelty under the Belgians to the kleptocratic chaos of Mobutu Sese Seko and the current post-apocalyptic riot of robber-baron politicians. However, its troubles only served to increase the interest of "Daily Telegraph" correspondent Tim Butcher, who was sent to cover Africa in 2000. He remembered his mother's stories of her own genteel river journey there in the 1950s and his connection deepened when he discovered that Stanley's expedition was funded by the "Telegraph". Before long he became obsessed with the idea of recreating Stanley's original expedition - but travelling alone. Despite warnings from old Africa hands that his plan was 'suicidal', Butcher spent years poring over colonial-era maps and wooing rebel leaders before making his will and venturing to the Congo's eastern border with just a rucksack and a few thousand dollars hidden in his boots. He travelled for hundreds of kilometers on a motorbike, dogged by punctured tyres, broken bridges and dehydration. As he drove through the most dangerous areas, he stopped only to sleep - biking through the bush for hours and speeding up every time he passed a soldier. And then he reached the legendary Congo River, making his way down it in an assortment of vessels including a dugout canoe. Helped along the way by a cast of characters - from UN aid workers to a campaigning pygmy, he passed through the once thriving cities of this huge country, saw the marks left behind by years of abuse and misrule, and followed in the footsteps of the great Victorian adventurers, and of the visitors - such as Katherine Hepburn and Evelyn Waugh - who had been there in very different times. Almost 2,500 harrowing miles later, he reached the Atlantic Ocean a thinner and a wiser man. His extraordinary account describes a country with more past than present, where giant steamboats lie rotting in the advancing forest and children hear stories from their grandfathers of days when cars once drove by. Butcher's journey was a remarkable feat. But the story of the Congo, told expertly and vividly in this book, is more remarkable still.


In 1978, gifted student and writer Greg Roberts turned to heroin when his marriage collapsed, feeding his addiction with a string of robberies. Caught and convicted, he was given a nineteen-year sentence. After two years, he escaped from a maximum- security prison, spending the next ten years on the run as Australia's most wanted man. Hiding in Bombay, he established a medical clinic for slum- dwellers, worked in the Bollywood film industry and served time in the notorious Arthur Road prison. He was recruited by one of the most charismatic branches of the Bombay mafia for whom he worked as a forger, counterfeiter, and smuggler, and fought alongside a unit of mujaheddin guerrilla fighters in Afghanistan. His debut novel, SHANTARAM, is based on this ten-year period of his life in Bombay. The result is an epic tale of slums and five-star hotels, romantic love and prison torture, mafia gang wars and Bollywood films. A gripping adventure story, SHANTARAM is also a superbly written meditation on good and evil and an authentic evocation of Bombay life.

Paul Theroux sets off for Cape Town from Cairo -- the hard way. Travelling across bush and desert, down rivers and across lakes, and through country after country, Theroux visits some of the most beautiful landscapes on earth, and some of the most dangerous. It is a journey of discovery and of rediscovery -- of the unknown and the unexpected, but also of people and places he knew as a young and optimistic teacher forty years before. Safari in Swahili simply means "journey", and this is the ultimate safari. It is Theroux in his element -- a trip where chance encounter is everything, where departure and arrival times are an irrelevance, and where contentment can be found balancing on the top of a truck in the middle of nowhere.



Meet Balram Halwai, the 'White Tiger': servant, philosopher, entrepreneur and murderer. Balram, the White Tiger, was born in a backwater village on the River Ganges, the son of a rickshaw-puller. He works in a teashop, crushing coal and wiping tables, but nurses a dream of escape. When he learns that a rich village landlord needs a chauffeur, he takes his opportunity, and is soon on his way to Delhi behind the wheel of a Honda. Amid the cockroaches and call-centres, the 36,000,004 gods, the slums, the shopping malls, and the crippling traffic jams, Balram learns of a new morality at the heart of a new India. Driven by desire to better himself, he comes to see how the Tiger might escape his cage...



'Here we drink three cups of tea to do business; the first you are a stranger, the second you become a friend, and the third, you join our family, and for our family we are prepared to do anything - even die' - Haji Ali, Korphe Village Chief, Karakoram mountains, Pakistan. In 1993, after a terrifying and disastrous attempt to climb K2, a mountaineer called Greg Mortenson drifted, cold and dehydrated, into an impoverished Pakistan village in the Karakoram Mountains. Moved by the inhabitants' kindness, he promised to return and build a school. "Three Cups of Tea" is the story of that promise and its extraordinary outcome. Over the next decade Mortenson built not just one but fifty-five schools - especially for girls - in remote villages across the forbidding and breathtaking landscape of Pakistan and Afghanistan, just as the Taliban rose to power. His story is at once a riveting adventure and a testament to the power of the humanitarian spirit.


The last book I have read before, several years ago on a work trip to Chicago.  I cried the whole flight home while I was finishing the book.  It is, and will always remain, my favorite book.  It is awe inspiring the impact one person can have on the world, even when they just set out to repay one village for a kind deed.  If you read only one book, let this be the one, the world will be a better place if you do! 

Oh and here are the three on my nightstand that I still have to get through....



We all want to help. Over the past fifty years $1 trillion of aid has flowed from Western governments to Africa, with rock stars and actors campaigning for more. But this has not helped Africa. It has ruined it. Dambisa Moyo’s excoriating and controversial book reveals why millions are actually poorer because of aid, unable to escape corruption and reduced, in the West’s eyes, to a childlike state of beggary. Dead Aid shows us another way. Using hard evidence to illustrate her case, Moyo shows how, with access to capital and with the right policies, even the poorest nations can turn themselves around. First we must destroy the myth that aid works– and make charity history.


Do you believe in miracles? This collection of extraordinary tales of survival is guaranteed to astound and inspire you in equal measure. Meet ordinary people who have found extraordinary strengths facing seemingly impossible challenges – like the woman who fell from the sky, or the man who floated 300 miles out to sea after the Asian tsunami. What is it about some people that they seem born survivors, or how does someone find the incredible strength from within not to give up on hope against all odds? Are some people just lucky? These and many other true stories demonstrate the strength we all possess to come through our life's toughest challenges, and the precious wisdom that results from surviving. This book is based primarily on conversations with survivors and experts around the world


The Poisonwood Bible tells the story of an American family in the Congo during a time of tremendous political and social upheaval. The story is told by the wife and four daughters of Nathan Price, a fierce evangelical Baptist who takes his family and mission to the Belgian Congo in 1959. They carry with them all they believe they will need from home, but soon find that all of it - from garden seeds to Scripture - is calamitously transformed on African soil. This tale of one family's tragic undoing and remarkable reconstruction, over the course of three decades in postcolonial Africa, is set against one of history's most dramatic political parables. The Poisonwood Bible dances between the darkly comic human failings and inspiring poetic justices of our times. In a compelling exploration of religion, conscience, imperialist arrogance, and the many paths to redemption, Barbara Kingsolver has written a novel of overwhelming power and passion

I'm off to read....

It Has Come And Gone

as quickly and quietly as ever...my two years in London is up.  July 1st marked my two year anniversary in London.  I still remember exactly what I wore, what it felt like pulling up to my flat in the cab, what I ate (Bodeans!) that first day.  What an amazing two years I have had.  I came to London full of hope for the future, I knew I would love it and that I would make the best of whatever it would throw at me, that's just how I do things.  I came to London because I knew I would always regret not coming, but I was pretty sure that I would never regret coming.  But what I didn't know then, and possibly didn't even expect, is how happy I would be here.  That I was about to make a life for myself here, not just a temporary existence, but a real life with real friends.  It still surprises me sometimes how settled I feel here, everyday life feels like just that...but still with a little something extra!  I know a big part of my happiness has to do with the friends I have made here, but a huge part also has to do with London, I have totally fallen in love with this city.  I love Londons character, the charm and curb appeal of West London, the raw edge and people watching of East London. Every neighborhood has it's own identity, if you take a walk across London (which I often do) you can not only see the change, but you can feel it too.  The music blaring out of the bars begins to change, the people change, the architecture changes...just when you start to vibe on your new setting. It changes all over again.  I love it.  I love a lazy weekend as much as the next, but it's hard to do that here.  There are countless markets to discover, festivals to enjoy...music, sports, food... In the past couple of months I have my weekends have consisted of polo matches, horse races, rooftop BBQs, Pearl Jam and Paul McCartney in Hyde Park, boozy brunches, picnics, World Cup watching with people from all over the world.  The list goes on...you would have to make a serious effort to be bored here! 

Before you get too worried Mom...no I'm not staying here forever!  But rest easy at night, I am happy!

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

A Tale of a Pathetic Love Affair

I can't believe that I haven't blogged this one yet.  Going back a couple of months here, but this one is definitely one for the books.  Here lies one of my most shameful displays of my attempts to make my deluded fantasies of me and Bob Schneider growing old together a reality.  I'd say if you know me well, but really if you know me at all, you are well acquainted for my long standing affinity for one Bob Schneider.  If you don't know who he is, leave now.  Now, I am aware that all self-respecting Texas women share a similar affinity, but I beg to differ.  Now, luckily, I am a lot more self-respecting than most self-respecting Texas women and I would not stoop to the level of most to gain a few minutes of Bob's attention, as I am quite certain that would probably lead to a few uncomfortable doctors appointments and a lifetime of valtrex.  Sorry, but as much as I love him, I'm not so deluded to think he's not a dirty bird.  But that doesn't stop me from attending an embarrassing amount of his shows and throwing elbows to work my way up to the front row or even making posters on one occasion, with sketches none the less, to try and get him to play my favorite song.  I digress.

So back in March, my trusty iLike app on my iPhone buzzed and gave me my weekly dose of new local shows of my favorite artists.  I casually pulled out my phone to check out the shows and I in a moment that I can only imagine is what it is like for menopausal women experiencing hot flashes, I saw Bob's name flash across my screen.  I immediately booked tickets to the show and alerted everyone I knew in the greater London area.  Show time finally arrived, and with my newly acquired skills of meeting Rock Stars overseas, I was certain that this was my moment.  The moment that I have been waiting 5 years for.  The moment in which I could redeem myself for only being able to muster the words "wow, you're really sweaty" when I finally shook hands with Bob in 2005.  Yes people, I have mad game.

Annie and I head to see the show, he is actually the opening act for Bowling for Soup.  I was furious, Bob is not an "opening act".  Anyways, it was a relatively small venue, so we had a good spot and the room was filled with Brits who were actually there to see Bowling for Soup (really?!) and had no idea who Bob was.  There were a few Texas people dispersed throughout the crowd, so we had to really put in the effort on the sing-a-longs.  I'll tell you this much, a Bob show isn't quite the same when the crowd can't do the sing-a-longs.  Towards the end he asked if anyone had any requests, since it was a small crowd and he could hear a few of of Texas folk cheering him on screaming at him.  He actually called on me. Finally, I was going to get to hear my favorite Bob song of all time.  So I yell out  "Tiger and the Lamb" as loud as I can and he says "No" and calls on the next girl.  I was deflated.  After he finished his set he wandered off stage and disappeared into the night.  I was a little bummed.  Surprisingly, Bowling for Soup was more entertaining than I expected, probably because of the copeous amounts of booze they consumed while on stage.  Then it happened.  All of a sudden out of the corner of my eye, I see Annie's arm shoot out and grab someone at the exact same time I hear her voice in slow motion saying "Boooooobbbbbbbb".  Really it happened just like that.  I whip around, clearly in slow motion as well.  And there he is, in all his beautiful, unshaven glory.  Two feet from me.   He gives us a "hey, how's it going" all casual like.  So we (read Annie, because I am frozen like a fish in the dead of winter in northern Siberia) reciprocate with an equally casual "not much, good show."  The conversation went back and forth like this, all the while I stood there looking like a aww-struck fembot, until finally he asked us what our plans were that night.  We Annie responded we'd probably go to a pub in the area, and he then said "you gotta number".  At this point I snapped even further into my frozen stuper while Annie pops out her phone and Bob takes it out of her hands and puts his number in it.  This is the second time I have literally wanted to jump out of my skin and kill Annie in a jealous rage.  But then I remembered if she wasn't taking action, I certainly wouldn't have been. So after the show we meander over to a local pub and send Bob a friendly "what's your plan" text.  We wait, and we wait, and we wait. Finally we give ourself a time limit of pathetic-ness.  That comes and goes, so Annie hides the blunt butter knife from me we hold our heads up high and walk out of the pub.  When we are on our way back to the tube I have to go to the bathroom, so I run in the movie theatre to use their bathroom.  When I come out Annie asks if I just want to see a movie since we didn't have any other plans that night that didn't involve us making memories with Bob.  I agree, we buy tickets to Cemetary Junction (not advisable) and large diet cokes and double large popcorns.  Don't judge, we have open wounds to lick.  We get settled into our seats and sit through the most boring 2 minutes of cinematic crap ever and all of a sudden Annie's phone lights up with  "Bob" flashing across the screen.  In what was inevitably the most silent part of the movie, Annie squeals "what do i doooooo?!?!"  and I answer her back in a voice that I am sure favors Lucifer himself "ANSWER IT!!!!!!!!!!!"  She runs out of the movie theatre and answers the call.  She comes back and I am anxiously awaiting her arrival in my seat and she says "we are going to the tour bus"  I literally throw my popcorn up in the air and start to gather my things. She then informs me, that her conversation with Bob went something like this.  In ever such a casual, bored tone...

Bob - Hey, it's Bob
Annie - Oh, hey Bob
Bob-  Where are you
Annie - hold on, I can't hear you, let me step outside.  There that's better, we are at a pub across the street
Bob- How do I get there
Annie  - You cross the street
Bob - Oh, that sounds difficult, do you just want to come to the bus and hang out
Annie - Sure, but we need to finish our beers first

Such composure, I admire you Annie.  So I regain no resemblance of such composure and run to the bathroom and jump up and down like a fat kid on Christmas.  We wait an appropriate amount of "beer drinking" time and then head over to the bus.  But not before Annie stops by the snack counter and tells the manager that the movie was crap and we want our money back.  Genius. 

We walk up to the tour bus and there Bob, the Bowling for Soup guys and some of their tech guys, managers are standing outside hanging out.  Bob sees us approaching and walks over to meet us.  This is where it gets weird.  I have finally regained use of the spoken word and Annie and I proceed to talk Bob's ear off.  Not because we had a bad case of verbal vomit but because the guy who is so charismatic and charming (in my eyes) on stage has the personality of a tree stump.  Seriously, it was so weird.  I still don't really know what to make of it.  It's not that he wasn't nice or didn't talk at all.  He was SO nice to us and answered all of our questions, but he just wasn't engaging at all.  He offers us beers and doesn't take one for himself, when we call attention to us, he tells us he is sober now.  That. Explains. So. Much.  The crazy, womanizing Bob that I have heard tales about was the "pre-rehab" Bob.  I want that Bob back. Anyways, like I said, he was perfectly nice to us, and I don't know what I expected...for him to dance like a monkey for us, obviously not.  But at least I got to ask him why he straight up denied my Tiger and the Lamb request and he said he couldn't play it without a band and his new band didn't know it anyways, but that it was cool that I knew that one.   After a bit the bus started up and they had to head onto the next city, but Bob was nice enough to take a couple of pictures with us and walk us out of the tour bus when we left. And that my friends is the tale of how I ended up on my second tour bus in the same month. 

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

All These Things That I've Done

...I've got soul but I'm not a soldier...sorry I got distracted singing my favorite Killers song while trying to think of a catchy title for my latest act of pure stupidity.  Shocking, I know.   But actually, on that note...I find that I often break into song (in my head) whenever I hear a phrase or sometimes even a word that is from a song. Hence, I quite literally feel like I am walking around to the soundtrack of my life.  Does anyone else do this, or just me?

So back to my stupidity.  When I moved to my new flat in February, I went to the shop down the street to stock up on a few household items.  They were out of the little individual gel packets of laundry detergent that I usually use that make life oh so simple, so I just grabbed a small jug of liquid, concentrate detergent.  I've been happily (I use the term "happily" very loosely as I detest any form of household work) doing my laundry ever since.  With the exception to the two times I recently sent out all of my laundry to be done by someone else because I had been travelling a lot and the mound of laundry had risen to shameful heights.  And no, I did NOT send out my unmentionables, because that would just be weird, but what I am about to tell you kinda makes me wish that I did. 

Last night, I was doing a load of said unmentionables (because clearly the rest of my laundry had just been picked up washed, ironed and folded that morning) and I must have been bored because I took a closer look at my detergent and not so quickly realized that it was fabric softener.  That is right people, I have been washing my clothes in ONLY fabric softener for the last 4 months.  Ew. I mean I guess they still smell fresh, but they're not really clean. It's times like these when I hate that the US and the UK don't have the same brand names.  I mean in the US, it's easy.  Snuggles = Fabric Softener.  Tide = Detergent.  Period.  I mean, what am I supposed to make of a brand called Comfort.  Fine, now that I know it is fabric softener, the name seems kind of intuative.  But they should really add the word FABRIC SOFTENER in really large bold letters on the front of the bottle, not just talk about how cosy it will make all of your clothes in really tiny letters.  Needless to say, I have a lot of laundry to redo.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Happy Birthday Ruffie!

When I first met Melissa freshman year in the dorms I could have never guessed what the next ten years would hold.  I can assure you that after a road trip to Dallas to see Dave Matthews that first semester that Melissa would tell you with certainty that I would not be involved in any way, shape or form in her next ten years.  But, alas, I prevailed and we went on to live within a barefoot walking distance from each other for the next 4 years.  She has been my most trusted confidant, my emotional counterpart, the president of refusing me whiskey, my new york hotel, the source of my inspiration for having the confidence to move to London and most of all the best friend anyone could ask for!  Happy Birthday Ruffie, you'll always be older than me!!

These are just a few of the reasons that I love this girl....



Thursday, April 22, 2010

Fighting Fit

Over the last couple of years I've managed to put back on all the weight I lost post college (after putting on the sophmore 20)  I've even been so dedicated to this I decided to go ahead and put on a little extra for good measure.  Ugh, sick of this and sick of being here again.  I have obviously been a member of two different gyms since I've been in London and I have done the same thing with both...go strong for about 2-3 months then drop off all together.  The thought of joining another gym and running on a treadmill and going to Body Pump made me want to gag.  Besides, I knew I'd just do the same thing I always did...quit going.  So I decided that I needed something different that would keep my interest longer and I came up with boxing.  Cara and I had done a few boxing classes in Dallas and I really enjoyed those, they were a great release of pent up frustration.  Because of this I already own a set of boxign gloves and a set of pretty pink wraps.

One quick Google search later and I found out that there is a boxing gym right down the street from my office.  I checked out their website and saw that they have evening boxing classes and even women's only classes twice a week.  I called them to make sure that these classes were more along the lines of "fitness" rather than training for actual boxers.  They assured me they were so I headed over to Rooney's Boxing Gym the next day for my very first women's only boxing class to check it out.  Lucky me, they had just added an additional time for the class since their classes were beginning to get a bit crowded and I showed up at the very first one...and no one else did.  So I got a free one on one with a trainer.  Ouch!  That is all that I have to say about that. I quickly found out that my pink wraps were unacceptable and got myself a new green pair.  I then proceeded to work out with Micky, a scrappy irishman who I can't understand a word he says!  We finally started speaking with hand signals and got along grand.  Although I couldn't walk for three days afterwards, I went back for more this week and joined up for the year!  I am loving this place.  It is a legit boxing gym where real boxers train, it smells like something very sweaty died in it, there are blood stains on the mats in the boxing rings and it is an absolute sausage fest...I love it!  Apparently the owner, John Rooney Jr. (who wrapped my hands for me last time) is one of the most respected and sought after boxing coaches in all of the UK...what have I signed myself up for?!?!

All of this gym joining/me being sick of lugging around 20 extra lbs came at the perfect time.  We just started a Biggest Loser challenge in our department at work!  So I have the next three months to lose lose lose!!  My goal is 12% of my body weight, so lets see if I can reach it! I'll keep you all updated on my progress...maybe even some before and after photos if you're lucky!!

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Sorry Mom...

I've done it again, I've managed to sign myself up for another ridiculous challenge with Annie.  Exactly one year from today I will be in the midst of crossing India via rickshaw, racing against 60 other richshaws full of fellow lunatics!  I am literally so excited about this I might wet my pants!  It all started about a year ago when Annie told me there was a rickshaw race across India to which I replied "when do we sign up?"  Unfortunately, it's not that easy.  They have three races a year, in which you have to sign up a year in advance and they sell out in under a minute.  We were trying to sign up for the Winter 2011 race, but we were otherwise occupied climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro during the sign up.  We had Colby try to register us, but she said it was sold out before she could even refresh her screen. 

So that brings us to yesterday.  Sign up for the Spring 2011 Rickshaw Run, 2pm GMT. Annie and I were exchanging phone calls and emails all morning prepping ourselves to make sure we secured a spot in the Run. I had my screen pulled up just staring at it at least an hour before sign up started.  About 5 minutes 'til, I started refreshing my screen like a mad woman just waiting for that green button to pop up.  I called Annie minutes before and we both had crazy butterflies...it was a massive race against the clock.  But it paid off, Team Rickshaw Rodeo will be racing across India April 17-May 1, 2011! 

So a little more about the Rickshaw Run.  It is put on by a company called The Adventurists, which is basically is a bunch of guys who tried to think of the stupidest things you could try and do and made them possible, all in the name of adventure.  The "race" is more about the adventure you have in the two weeks between start and finish and not about who gets there first.  There really are no rules (other than if you lose or completely total their rickshaw you have to pay for it) and there is absolutely no support during the actual race, you are completely on your own.  They give you a rickshaw, a start and an end point and say "Go!"  That is it, you figure out your own route, your own accomodation, if you break down you have to find someone to fix it (which they guarantee you will break down as rickshaws are the least reliable mode of transportation).  Read their warning here, unless you are my mom...don't read it Mom...really, don't. Basically, it sounds like the most fun 2 weeks ever, to me at least! 

So not only is this in the name of adventure, but also charity.  For each Run, they select a couple of local charities in India to support, so Annie and I will have to raise £1,000  to be able to compete.  I am so excited, but I'm not so sure what I have gotten myself into this time!

You can read more about it here....http://rickshawrun.theadventurists.com/

Monday, April 19, 2010

A walk in the park

Such a beautiful day in London on Sunday...spent the day eating ice cream in regents park followed by a little "punting" aka boating!

Ps. Don't you love my new iPhone app. Hipstamatic..makes fun old timey pics (thanks ruble for the tip off!)














- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Best Night of my Life....

Yes people...it has happened, the best night of my life!  Okay, so maybe that is a bit over dramatic.  It all started one february afternoon while I was at work and I was listening to my favorite band, Blue October, on my ipod.  They had made there very first trip overseas last year, so I thought I'd check out their tour schedule to see if they were coming back to London anytime soon.  They weren't, but there WERE going to be in Germany in just a mere two weeks!! They were playing on a Sunday night in Munich, which happens to be one of my favorite cities.  So what is a girl to do but book herself a 24 hour trip to Germany!  One EasyJet ticket, hostel booking and VIP concert ticket later I was going to see my boys in Munich!

 I landed in Munich around 10 am on Sunday morning, I had already seen most of Munich since I've been twice before so I headed to my hostel to drop off my bag and headed in to find somewhere good to eat.  Something weird happened...I was totally scared to go in anywhere and eat by myself!  This is so weird for me, after years of travelling for work I am very accustomed to eating by myself, I do it all the time in London.  In fact, I even prefer to go to the movies by myself...at least once a week.  Why now, I am going to assume it was the fact that I don't speak a lick of German.  So anyways, after trying to gather the courage at least 4 times, I finally settled on a Twix bar from a vending machine and a nap at the hostel since I had woken up at 4 am to catch my flight to Germany.

As you read before, I ponied up and bought the VIP ticket since it had a "meet and greet" with the band. Obviously.  I had visions of them immediately befriending me as soon as they heard my Texas accent in a foreign land, so clearly I had to go to the "meet and greet".  Well all of a sudden when I was waiting for the U-bahn I got this giant pit in my stomach, I was so nervous!  I suddenly realized that they would be the first "famous" people I had ever possibly conversed with, I was terrified, what would I say to them???  So I walked myself over to a bar and got myself a tall beer and called Annie for some confidence!  The beer calmed my nerves a little, by the time I showed up to the venue there was already a line of about 50 Germans waiting to get their posters signed...who brings posters?? not me, I didn't bring anything to get signed.  Darn the luck.  My big moment was quickly approaching, but I started to notice they weren't really talking to anyone, they were just hurridly signing the posters and feeding people through the lines...what?!?! How was I going to make my everlasting impression??  When it was my turn, I got to take a picture with them so I approached them with my best "Hi Y'all" hoping they would hear my Texas drawl and the rest would be history. Epic Fail.  But here is the picture...I look as giddy as a fat kid with cake and they look like they'd rather die than be standing there taking this picture.

While waiting in line I met a lovely Austrian girl named Daniela, she was still in high school and had lied to her parents and taken a train to Germany to come to the concert!  Had no idea that they had so many Germany fans!  After my picture, we were all basically kicked out of the concert venue to wait outside in the cold until the show started.  I was so annoyed!! The venue was in the middle of nowhere so we just had to sit there for 2 hours.  I was starting to rethink my whole decision as I saw my image of how this was all going to go down slipping through my fingers.  They finally let us back in and Daniela and I got a prime spot right at the front.  Before the show started I went to go get a beer and passed by the merchandise table when I had the sudden realization that the merchandise guy was probably from Texas too, so I stopped by and sure enough he was! So I chatted with Dave (the merch guy) for a while, it was nice to find another Texan in the crowd of Germans.  Once the opening band went of I went back to my spot with Daniela and we enjoyed the show, they were amazing as always, Justin is always one for the theatrics :)


Towards the end of the show, I went back to the bar to get another beer and I passed by my friend Dave again and offered to buy him a beer, which he accepted.  I came back with our beers and stayed back with him the rest of the show while we drank and chatted.  He told me the band was coming back there after the show to sign more autographs, so you know I hung around.  After everyone had cleared out a bit I bought the band Jaeger shots, since Dave tipped me off that they are Justin's favorite (mine too!) and the rest is history!!! They invited me to come back to their tour bus and hang out...not lying....I hung out in Blue October's tour bus with the band until about 4 am.  Best. Night. Of. My. Life.

They are actually all amazingly nice, cool, laid back guys.  I did have to leave for the airport in a mere 3 hours and go straight to work so I managed to make myself go back to the hostel at 4 am (what was I thinking, I should have gone straight to the airport from the tour bus!)  My new friend Dave was so sweet and walked me back to the train stop (I miss Texas boys for this very reason...covered in tattoos but still a southern gentleman!)  So I now have the email address and phone number of Blue Octobers Merch manager, saving that one for sure!  He emailed me the next day to tell me it was good to meet me at the show and that he hoped I had fun on the bus and to let me know next time I come to a show...you bet I am Dave, see you soon!!

Me and Dave

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Zanzibar - Stonetown

Well folks...here we are, my final Africa post.  And only a solid 2 months after I got back, way to go me.  I have also missed NUMEROUS blogable events over the past two months...including the best night OF MY LIFE!   Don't worry...I'll get to that! 

So since my first Zanzibar post was getting OOC (out of control) long I decided to cut off after my trauma at the beach and do another post for our day in Stonetown.   I'm not sure if I mentioned this {and I'm too lazy to look} in my last post, but it should be known that Zanzibar had been without power on the entire island for like 2 months solid when we were there!  So the entire island was being run off of generators...big, loud, gas powered generators.  They whole island was abuzz...sorry I couldn't resist.  After our fabulous, yet slightly traumatic {for me} 3 days at the beach we headed into Stonetown for our last night.  Stonetown is a tragically delapidated city with an even more tragic past.  Stonetown was home to the last working slave market.  It only closed in 1873 and I forget the exact numbers, but we are talking hundreds of thousand of slaves were trafficked through Stonetown. Disgusting. 

We arrived in the city around lunch time and I think we were all quite shocked at the state of it after spending the last few days relaxing on a beautiful resort.  The town is made up of a bunch of decrepit stone buildings, with narrow dirt alleyways weaving throughout them.  The lack of electricity only exacerbated the situation. Stonetown is predominately Muslim, so very few women were seen on the streets.  Mostly men, trying to sell you something and loads of children, most barefoot, trying to get a little attention.  The stark contrast of the city set in one of the most beautiful locations ever really can't be avoided.
We went for lunch at this great Arabic restaurant...minus the fact that my chicken was on the bone and they had no AC, it was a pretty good lunch!


After lunch we walked along the seawall and saw these little bits of preciousness playing in the waves!

After lunch we visited the House of Wunder, which is an old house belonging to royalty which has now been turned into a museum documenting the history of Zanzibar as well as the Slave trade.  After the museum we headed to the local markets.

The fresh fruit/vegetable market...no thank you
Some GIANT 'nanners
Some Rambutan...fruits, similar to lychee

The fish market...you can count me OUT!



After deciding that I was not going to eat any non packaged foods in Stonetown we headed over to the location of the slave market.  There has since been a church built over the spot, but there is a memorial statue to commemorate the event.  We had a very adventagious tour guide who was not afraid to ask for his tip afterwards :)


After touring the old slave market we just wandered the lovely streets (ahhhm....alleyways) and did a little shopping from the oh so kind shopkeepers who couldn't wait to get us in their shops.  

said "street"...this is the main drag



a more scenic street view


That night we had our last dinner on the rooftop restaurant of our hotel...it was actually really nice, but I did opt for the veggie risotto after seeing the fish market earlier that day!  We were advised not to go out wandering the streets after dark since Stonetown isn't the safest of towns.  So we spent our last night up on the rooftop hanging out with each other.  We had a great group on this trip, we really lucked out!!

We just had time for one last "lunch with a view" the next day before we had to head to the airport.  I had another stellar trip to Africa, one I won't soon forget.  Again the people of Africa have amazed me with their joy, graciousness and their endurance.  They face more challenges daily than most face in a lifetime and once again I have been reminded of the abundance of grace in my life.  


I'll leave you with this little gem!  I think this lovely lady came to Zanzibar and never went home :)


Monday, March 8, 2010

Zanzibar - The Beach

Now before you get all jealous about me getting to go to Zanzibar, which is absolute paradise, please keep in mind that I earned it!! Not only did I spend 6 days climbing the tallest free standing mountain in the world without a shower, a toliet, a full nights sleep, etc...but I also went through the seven cirlces of hell to actually get to the island! It all started back at the Kilimanjaro Mountain Resort, to which we got to return after our 6 days on the mountain. It was such a treat to stay in a nice lodge with a swimming pool and nice rooms and showers...oh the showers! All was grand on our first night back.  The next morning we woke up and I couldn't move!  I was SO sore!!! The entire time on the mountain, I never once woke up sore, I attribute the soreness to the journey back down the mountain.  As I mentioned in my previous post, I FAR underestimated the downward journey, I was so focused on the journey up!  Well, let me tell you friends, besides the summit day, down was by far the worst part!  It kills your knees and your hip flexors, not to mention you are sooooo over  being on a mountain with no toliets or showers! So anyways, the day started off STIFF, but I couldn't complain, I was on my way to Zanzibar...just one short 2 hour flight separating me and a relaxing day on the beach.  Not so my friends, not so.

First we had to make the 2 hour drive on the ever so bumpy roads back to the Kilimanjaro airport in our less than air-conditioned van.  Not so bad.  We get there, rushing to the check in counter all 11 of us with our 15 bags to be checked.  What's that you say, you over sold the flight.  Of course.  I should take this time to mention that the airport systems in Africa do not run like the well-oiled machines you are so accustomed to in the states. There is not much official about any of it, think hand written boarding passes, outdoor waiting rooms with dirt floors, you get the drift?  So it turns out that 3 of us are going to have take a different flight from a different airport.  They were about to close our gate so the three of us who hadn't gotten our boarding passes (of course, we all know which group I was in) were separate from the rest of the group and given all 15 of the bags to be checked, chucked into a van with the luggage and were speeding off towards the Arusha airport before you could even say Hakuna Matata! What?!?! I'm sorry, can someone please give me some more details?  Am I headed off to a Kenyan brothel never to be seen or heard from again??  No, no...we were assured the Arusha airport knew we were coming and we were guaranteed to get on the plane to Zanzibar with all 15 of our groups bags.  Phew, that was a close one!

So about and hour and a half later we pulled up to the Arusha Airport, which was the dirt landing strip airport that Annie got to fly the plane and I wanted to push her out of the cockpit (and the plane altogether) and fly the plane myself...remember??  What do you know, the tiny departure check in desk was crowded with tons of people trying to get to Zanzibar.  It seems that over booking flights is not only a problem for the Kilimanjaro Airport.  We march straight up to some official-ish looking person and tell them we have come from the Kili Aiport and have been promised to be put on the next flight to Zanzibar with all 15 bags of luggage we just unloaded.  He looks at us with a mocking grin and says "of course you were, but it's Africa".   Luckily, he calls up some people and identifies who we are and gives us some of those official hand written boarding passes.  As for the luggage it is taken away in a little buggy and rolled to the side of the runway...that must be a good sign.  We go to wait in our high tech departures lounge  aka. a patch of dirt with some white plastic lawn chairs.  Two hours later we are boarding the plane, but we can see that our buggy of luggage has not moved an inch.  I'll give credit where credit is due, Dave fought tooth and nail to get that luggage on the flight, but they weren't having it.  Apparently when it is hot out the air is thinner (or thicker, I forget) and they can basically only carry the passengers on the plane because of weight restrictions so our luggage never stood a chance.  They told us it would be on the next flight to Zanzibar, tomorrow. 

So we finally arrived in Zanzibar about 4 hours after we were supposed to and met up with the rest of our group, who I didn't envy for a second.  They had been waiting for FOUR hours for us at the airport in Zanzibar. I should mention that the airport is almost entirely outdoor, there is no air conditioning and the humiditiy is about 110%.   We all made a trip into town to get some necessities since we would be without our bags for at least 24 hours.  You know, toothpaste and swimsuits!  The swimsuit I had to buy was not documented and has been donated to charity already as it was about 4 sizes to small and the top was made to cover a 12 year old girl who had not yet gone through puberty.  But I will show you a picture of some of the awesome shirts the guys got to wear.

We finally arrived at the Fumba Beach Lodge and it was paradise! We were greeted with fresh coconut juice and then we had just enough time to put on our tacky swimsuits and have a few beers in the pool and watch the sunset! 
Sunset from Fumba...not too shabby!
Then we all "got ready" as much as you can with no bags and enjoyed our first dinner at Fumba, it was amazing as was every other dinner we had there!  Then it was off for an early night to bed as we were all exhausted from our days crazy journey!  The lodge has a bunch of these thatched roof bungalows, which were really awesome, until I realized they did little to keep the abundant amount of gecko's out of our room.  You can imagine how restful my sleep was while at Fumba.  How is it possible that these stupid lizards can haunt me across the world!  There is a light above the front door to the bungalow of course all of the nasty lizards congregate right above the door and just stare down at you daring you to open the door.  Well, clearly, I couldn't possibly be the one to unlock the door.  So Annie, who is also deathly afraid of these things, got nominated to open the door and then I would run as fast as I could into the room and she would slam the door shut.  That was the plan.  The first night, she finally pulled herself together and went to put the key in the door and a lizard CAME OUT OF THE KEYHOLE!!!!  She screamed, I screamed....we heard people laughing across the whole property.  By this time our fellow travellers had come to know our mutual fear of lizards very well.  Luckily, Dave came to our rescue and opened our door, as we made him do every other night as well.  Needless to say, this was not the last time we were driven to screams due to lizards over the next three days. 
Our room at Fumba Beach Lodge

The next morning I had to face my second biggest fear (behind lizards, of course) snorkeling!  Yes, people, I am terrified of the ocean!  I have been ever since my family went to Mexico when I was 11 and I went snorkeling with my Dad and my sister and we saw a barracuda and all I could think about was that episode of Flipper (my favorite show at the time obviously) where the girl is attacked by a barracuda because she is wearing a sparkley necklace and barracudas are attracted to shiny objects.  And of course I was wearing a nautical themed swimsuit with a giant golden anchor embroidered on the chest like a freakin' bullseye, thanks Mom!  Clearly she did not watch that episode of Flipper. Anyways, so I am emotionally scarred.  I have tried snorkeling a handful of other times and they all end the same way, with me hyper-venhilating and sucking in copious amounts of salt water in through the snorkel.  Well, I was determined to give it another shot, I mean, I was in Zanzibar!  I had even bought an underwater camera for the occasion.  I should mention that while, yes, I did buy the camera for it's underwater functionality, the real reason behind that was that I lost a camera a couple of years ago in Cabo by dropping it in a glass of beer and I figured if it was waterproof it was beerproof too!  Anyways, so after a mild panic attack I put on my wetsuit - to protect from both sunburn and jelly fish, how convenient (please note heavy sarcasm).  We had to wade out to our dhow (traditional Zanzibari boat) and headed off to the reef. 

The dhow is basically a bunch of old rotting wood nailed together, so as you can imagine, I was less than pleased to be sailing out over open water in this "Titanic waiting to happen".  All of a sudden we stopped in the middle of the ocean and they told us to jump in! WHAT?!?!?  The only snorkeling I had ever done was the kind where you rent the equipment from the guy on the beach and wade out and see what ever you could right off of the beach. And I had enough of an issue with that. And this guy wants me to jump out of this future shipwreck  perfectly good boat into open water.  I mean has he seen the movie Open Water.  Somehow I managed to step outside of my body for a few moments and climb down the ladder into the water (I don't jump into any body of water, as a promise to my mother, after the "incident" at the lake that fateful 4th of July in 2005).  I did a few breathing exercises to calm myself down so as not to inhale a lungful of water and then I did it, I assumed the position and put my face in the water. It was BEAUTIFUL!! I had never seen a coral reef before, well in person, and I never imagined that it could be so pretty. Now I get why people are addicted to scuba diving.  But don't expect me to do a 180 anytime soon and grow fins, I still have a very healthy fear respect for the ocean and all that inhabits it...aka. sharks.

Proof that I got in the water
Nasty Sea Cucumber

We were supposed to have about 90 minutes to snorkel, but the weather got bad after 45 minutes and the water got really choppy and got stirred up so much you couldn't really see anything anyways.  I will say that I did enjoy myself, but that does not mean that I wasn't a tense, nervous wreck the entire 45 minutes that I was in the water.  I would turn around at least 4-5 times a minute to make sure that Jaws wasn't creeping up on me from behind.   So we had to get back on our dhow after only 45 minutes and we were wisked off to our private island to enjoy a picnic on the beach as well as a couple of hours relaxing on the beach.  Oh what paradise!
View of our Dhow from the private island
The next day we all spent hanging around the resort, mostly by the pool.  I also got a 90 minute massage in a treehouse in a Boabab tree, awesome!  The spa was literally a treehouse built in this giant tree!  It was so peaceful and all you could hear was the sound of the wind rustling the leaves and the waves in the distance.  I could get used to that!
A bunch of dhows
View from the hammock that I spent the better part of the day in
Simba...the lodge's dog...we made friends, he hung out with me on the beach all day!

That night was our last night at the resort so we got to have dinner as a group on the beach by candlelight...very romantic!  It was also a full moon, which was very cool to see the moon's reflection off of the ocean.  Since it was our last night at the lodge (we were headed to Stonetown the next day) we decided to have our very own full moon party on the beach!  It was very tame, by Thailand standards, but we stayed up until almost 5 am drinking beers on the beach and hanging out...a very memorable night!

Our very own Full Moon Party
Since this post has gotten rather lengthy, I'll stop here and continue on with Stonetown in another post!  I am am also still uploading my Zanzibar pictures to Shutterfly so look for those tomorrow!