Cousin Love

The Hub and I took advantage of the recent long Easter weekend in the U.K. to meet up with my cousin and his wife in Vienna. Although they live in the U.S., they were on a visit to Europe and stopped by Vienna because her brother and his family live there.

At one of Vienna's Easter markets

Not only is Vienna a beautiful and interesting city to visit, we had a really amazing time catching up with my cousins and meeting her family too. And it reminded me how happy it has made me to get to know all my cousins again as an adult.

I have a relatively big extended family, as my mom is one of seven kids and my dad one of four. Taking into account that my parents' generation had considerably smaller families than their parents', this resulted in nine cousins on one side and eight on the other.

Keeping in touch is never easy as we're spread all over the place, from Bali to London to New York, Connecticut, Colorado, Wisconsin, Oklahoma, Georgia and California. The technological revolution has made it just that bit easier to at least keep tabs on what we're all up to. This has made me even more keen to see everyone in person -- one of the reasons I really wanted to make a trip to Wisconsin last summer, which resulted in a big cousin reunion on my mom's side of the family. And we had a blast.

There's something about a cousin. You've usually got some fun shared childhood memories (and hopefully not too much shared family angst), and at least in my case I never got to see them enough as we were always either a long car trip or a flight away. So getting to know them again as adults is just really fun and full of surprises. I recently found out one of my cousins is a really good writer and I didn't even know we shared that interest until now.

Also, we're usually surrounded in life by people who are very similar to ourselves due to location and lifestyle. The Hub and I live in a big city. A lot of our friends work in journalism or finance, because those are the industries we work in. My cousins, who we saw in Vienna, live in a town in the mountains with a population of 500. And they work in entirely different industries. It was so interesting hearing their perspectives on things.

Strolling through the vineyards at the Heuringer

I came back from Vienna delighted to have seen the Schoenberg palace, gone to the Spanish Riding School and eaten some strudel. It was also great to do some local things, like eating and drinking at a Heuriger in the suburbs of Vienna -- a family-style restaurant located in the winery itself. But what really made me happy was the people I got to spend time with.

If you don't have any cousins, see if you can borrow some. I've loved getting to know the Hub's as well since we got married -- he's got a whole set of really nice cousins doing really interesting things, who have welcomed me into the family.

But if you have cousins you haven't seen or spoken to in a while, or don't really even know at all, don't hesitate to reach out. You might just be surprised that you gain a new interesting friend.

P.S. In honor of my cousin, a link to his favorite Mind, Body & Scroll blog post on the Hub's reaction to my childhood dolls.

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Forget Your Worries And Break Out Your Bathing Suit

In case you didn't know, I'm half mid-Western. That's right, my Mom's side of the family is from America's dairy state: Wisconsin. No wonder I spend so much time thinking about cheese.

Growing up in the suburbs of New York, I only got to see that side of the family on our summer trips there. But I have great memories of those visits, particularly the excursions when all the cousins would meet up to go to a water park in the Wisconsin Dells. Did you know that the Wisconsin Dells is the water park capital of the world? This is according to the Noah's Arc website, which must be the definitive source of information on the matter, holding the crown as America's largest water park.

I have great memories of spending time with my cousins, whipping down slides and hanging out in the wave pool. And let me tell you, things are only getting better at water parks. In March, the Hub and I took a short "spring break" warm weather holiday to Tenerife and spent the best part of one of the days at Sian Park, screaming our way down slides on rubber rings. The rides have advanced. No longer are they just simple slides, but often times you're hurtled down into wide open funnels where your ring seems to almost fly vertically up one wall and then the other, like you're a mouse on a sponge in a drain. We loved it.

The other thing that's amazing about water parks: if you're worried about how you look in a swim suit (and frankly who isn't?) a water park is the best antidote. Although I will always put a cover up on over my bathing suit, feeling incredibly self conscious walking from say a sun lounger to a snack bar, I will happily walk around a water park in the same swimming costume (as the Brits say) with not a care in the world. And that's because all I'm focused on is having fun and which ride we should do next.

Since we're on the subject, I would like to take this opportunity to remember one of the world's first water parks. It closed many years ago now, but I just found out about it by reading this fascinating -- albeit long -- article about the history (and demise) of River Country in Disney World Orlando in 2002. According to this investigative report, it would seem the pioneering water park had too small of a guest capacity, which made it unprofitable by 2002, particularly in the wake of the September 11 attacks. (If you happen to have an interest in the history of theme parks, it's definitely worth a read.)

On a much brighter note, I'm happy to say that the Hub and I have an epic Stateside adventure planned this summer and one of the stops will be Wisconsin. And even better, all of us cousins (and aunts and uncles too) are gathering together -- including spending a day at the Dells. I cannot wait to cast off my worries and get in the water.

Photo credit: Boy dives into a lake off a slide via photopin (license)

Photo credit: Leap of Faith via photopin (license)

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Being A Tourist In Your Own Town (And Country)

My parents recently stayed with us for slightly under three weeks. I'll just let that sink in.

In all seriousness, it was a fun and busy visit. They saw our new house, walked around our neighborhood, ate in our local pizza place, our curry house and shared pints with us in our favorite Irish pub (although the music, sadly, wasn't as good as usual). 

But there was one day that struck me in an unusual way. I took a day off from work and booked us a tour to see Stonehenge -- a special private tour where we would be allowed to walk "among the stones" after all the normal sucker tourists had gone home for the evening. One of my other American expat friends came along too to complete our foursome (the Hub hates coach tours so I didn't even try to convince him).

And as we sat together on the bus as it pulled out of London, I felt transported to another place altogether. We were still in the town that we live and work in everyday, but given a different vantage point high up on the coach as we traveled West, with the tour guide giving us a running commentary in her strongly German-accented English. How many nights had I spent in West Ken when the Hub lived there? But yet I knew nothing about the "Famous" 3 Kings Pub on the corner -- never even realy gave it a second glance. Nor did I ever notice the fabulous windows indicating some famous artists' studios running along the A4.

We even got some vital stats on Heathrow airport as we whizzed by. And then we were rolling further Westward towards Bath, which was also a stop on this whirlwind day tour. Before I knew it I was looking out the window at emerald green fields and little white dots jumping about their fuzzy round mamas.

Frankly, it felt miles and years away from my usual daily view out of the window in Canary Wharf. There is a certain kind of undercover feeling to being a tourist where you live. A few of my fellow expat friends and I often go on walking tours in London and with our accents we are usually taken to be normal American tourists on vacation. It's something I would highly recommend for anyone, even those without a foreign accent. Take a random Wednesday off from work, get on a coach and see a part of your home in a way you don't usually do most days of the week.

I'd also highly recommend doing one of these private Stonehenge tours. They aren't cheap, but I can't imagine standing on that windy Salisbury Plain and being penned in the roped off bit only looking at the stones from afar. And here's our stone selfie to prove just how cool it was.

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The British Gold Star

I love the British expression "well done". I am always surprised by the enthusiasm of the uttered phrase, and for a long time it puzzled me. Sometimes it is used as the understatement of the year. For example, I am sure if I were to win the Nobel Peace Prize, a tempered "well done" would be the most common reaction. In a way, in the U.K., this makes total sense – because the British are notoriously self-deprecating. Achievement and success is often seen as embarrassing, it's something to be played down at all costs.

But the flip side of this is that the expression "well done" is often reserved for the most mundane tasks. For example, the Hub and I planned to go to the movies on a Sunday evening. Because you can now save 10% on the ticket prices at our local cinema by booking online, I pre-booked them. When I told the Hub, he said "well done" in a very enthusiastic manner (for him), as if doing such a thing required a lot of skill, effort and time. "That's O.K.," I said and walked out of the house to go off to run some errand or another.

The exchange stuck with me though, and I found myself thinking about when people here say it to me. I wracked my brain, remembering that my mother-in-law always says it when the Hub and I come down for a visit. In a way, getting to their home in the suburbs of London is actually easier than our commute to work. It consists of taking a short bus ride to the train station and then a 30 minute direct train ride. I often buy a coffee at the station and maybe even a glossy magazine if I feel like a treat. It's not a particularly difficult or trying thing to do, but the Hub's lovely mum always greets us with a big "well done", as if this trip began in the Outer Hebrides (those remote islands off the West Coast of Scotland).

I used to find this puzzling, but now I think I get it. In an understated culture, "well done" is short hand for "thanks for making this small but really appreciated effort". It's my mother-in-law's way of saying thanks for taking the time to come and see us. It's a subtle way to express gratitude for something that may seem small, but actually is really big.

And the best part about these well dones? In a world where people often fall into the trap that in order to be happy, accepted and loved that they have to accomplish certain and very specific things, it might not actually not true. You don't have to win a Nobel prize – you just have to order the cinema tickets online. Well done, lovely Brits, well done you*.

*A derivation of "well done" often heard here is "well done you". I think this might be Northern? My physio says it and she's Northern, so there's my evidence. (Leave a comment if you actually know!)

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A Picture Worth A Thousand Words

I wrote a rememberance last week about my great aunt who passed away. And I mentioned a story involving a suckling pig. My dad read my blog post out at the memorial service and a cousin emailed my mom a photo of said event, in which I happen to look on in shock (horror? fascination?) at the piglet. Thought you might be interested:

A picture really is worth a thousand words.

I love old photos -- particularly the fashion. I am rocking red overalls. It also gives me hope that when I go gray, perhaps I could actually go blonde again? When you lived in 1981 you had no idea what it actually looked like (scary), so it's cool to revisit the experience.

I won't write a long post this week as I am running behind on February's New Year's resolution project, which actually was January's, which over ran into February. You see? This is the problem with New Year's resolutions.

So now I have two days to finish clearing off my netbook so I can pass it onto a friend and figure out how to recycle my old blackberry (this year's first project was about updating my technology).

Then in March, I'm onto the wedding photos. This means actually printing out and framing our wedding photos and displaying them (just in time for our first anniversary). It also includes making copies for my in-laws and putting together some albums for everyone.

The part I forgot about getting projects done is accountability. So please remember to bug me in March about whether or not I'm working on those photos. It's important, because after all, someday, they will be worth a thousand words.

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0

Holiday Chaos

There are so many things that I love about the holidays. From Halloween to the day after New Year's, there are amazing things like trees turning autumn colors, turkey and stuffing, Christmas carols, mulled wine and trees with twinkling lights. I love buying presents for people that I know they will like. I love the feeling of sitting at Heathrow anticipating my trip home to New York, secure in the knowledge that my dad will be making me nice meals and I can eat as many pizza slices at New York delis as I want.

But how are the holidays really? Are they as sparkling, glittery and as filled with glee as I always anticipate?

This year the sewer line in my Grandmother's house backed up and all 11 members of my dad's side of the family had to decamp to my parents' house. We were not at all prepared – in fact, the two 'guest' rooms only have single beds in them. But with the help of air mattresses and cots, we all piled in and made do. My brother and I slept in my parents' room with them (with me in the walk-in closet) and my dad just happened to have a ham in the fridge that we ate for Christmas dinner.

And it was all going so well until my brother's dog ate an entire bar of dark chocolate and had to be rushed to the pet emergency room so vomiting could be induced.

It was certainly not a perfect Christmas. Although it was certainly memorable.

No matter how good your life is, no matter how many things you have to celebrate, I always think of the holidays as a time to imagine that other people must be having a better time – a more perfect family and of course a more perfect holiday celebration.

So I have decided to create my own new Christmas tradition – Christmas as a reminder to celebrate the chaos of life. The fact that life – and in particular family – can never be perfect. That sewer lines will back up and dogs will eat toxic substances just because they taste so good. But I often need a reminder that beauty doesn't equal order or perfection.

I have a lot of good memories of this Christmas in New York – there certainly was a lot of laughter. And I'm pretty sure the Hub is glad he arrived after Christmas day – otherwise he would have been sleeping in the closet with me. I'm still in New York, by the way, and it's bloody cold (-5 degrees celcius). And it's making me really appreciate England at the moment.

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3

Some Things Are Better... Some Things Are Worse

There's a column that Bill Bryson wrote that has stayed with me throughout my ex-patriot experience. Bill Bryson is an American who moved to England at the age of 26 (same as me!) and married an English woman (same as me! – except I married a man). When he and his family moved back to America in the mid-nineties he wrote a series of columns for The Mail on Sunday's Night & Day magazine.

In this one particularly memorable column, Bryson talks about how efficient and agreeable his local U.S. post office is – best of all the fact that once a year it hosts a 'customer appreciation' day where coffee, donuts and pastries are served free of charge. "Much as I admire the Royal Mail," he writes, "it has never once offered me a morning snack, so I have to tell you that as I strolled home from my errand, wiping crumbs from my face, my thoughts towards American life in general and the U.S. Postal Service in particular were pretty incomparably favourable."

However, he goes on to point out the U.S. Postal Service has some drawbacks. The same day as 'customer appreciation day' he had a letter returned to him because he had neglected to address it properly with a street name or number. He wrongly assumed that Black Oak Books in Berkeley, California was enough of an institution that the letter would arrive regardless. Unfortunately, not only did the letter never make it there, but it had, in fact, spent six weeks in California.

This was in clear contrast to the fate of a letter addressed to Bryson in England, with the address simply written 'Bill Bryson, Writer, Yorkshire Dales', which arrived within 48 hours of its posting with the help of the industrious Royal Mail service.

His conclusion? "The lesson to draw from this, of course, is that when you move from one country to another you have to accept that there are some things that are better and some things that are worse, and there's nothing you can do about it."

This advice has got me through many a bad moment as an ex-pat.

There are days when I worry if I did the right thing moving to another continent and country. I often wonder if I'll ever feel at home anywhere ever again. There are times in England when no matter how amazing my life feels and how many friends I have, an ache remains from somewhere within that I am really far from everything I truly know. But there have been trips home to the U.S. when as much as I enjoy catching up with all my friends and family, I feel anxious to get back 'home' to England to the life I've built here.

I have decided that 'home' is now a mix of both – and there is one group in which I do feel completely at ease – with my ex-pat friends. Whether they are American or from another far-flung place, there's a connection that doesn't necessarily exist with others who haven't strayed as far from their home towns. Don't get me wrong – I love my English friends too (and the Hub, of course). But there's a comfort I think we all need sometimes – the comfort of someone who has stood in our shoes and can truly empathize. And can understand why it's strange to have a washer but not a clothes dryer.

And although some things are better and some things are worse, I find it's best to try to focus on the good stuff (when I can). In honor of that, here are lists of my favorite things from both countries.

England: Pubs, topiaries, fields with cows and horses sheer minutes away from cities (even London), savory pies made with things like steak and ale, gin & tonics (acceptable to drink one at any time of day, really), the fact that everyone else is as pasty-skinned as me and people actually notice when I get a 'tan' on vacation, you can take the train to France, orange squash (a drink, not a vegetable), the fact that they call lady bugs 'lady birds', people are polite even when they are not very happy with you, Pimms cocktails in summer, curries and a seemingly endless supply of tea.

America: Thanksgiving, the abundance and constant availability of ice, Triscuits, Twizlers, clothes dryers, endless optimism, ordering anything in a restaurant 'your way' and never getting the hairy eyeball, strangers striking up conversation at any moment in any place, hotdogs – particularly at baseball games, the sound of a screen door slamming on a hot summer day, Fourth of July picnics, fireworks and fireflies, and pizza by the slice.

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2

My Top 5 Wedding Tips

It's been over two months since the wedding. Which means I've had some time to reflect. On my mistakes. So if you're ever planning a wedding, this is what I think is the boiled-down essential to know:

1. Most decisions can wait.

When you get engaged, there are lots of questions from people. Where will it be, how many people will you invite, what kind of cake will you have? There is a real feeling of urgency to make as many decisions as you can right away. Don't. Don't start asking bridesmaids, don't start inviting people and don't worry about what your color theme will be.

There are a few decisions you do need to make and they concern how much money you have for the wedding and then where it will be (aka choosing a venue). Also, it may help to map out a guest list to get a good sense of how many people you plan to invite (and ask your parents how many people they were thinking they'd like to invite – if you're doing that sort of thing). These are the big decisions and everything else can wait. Besides, you will change your mind on all those little decisions. Don't get ahead of yourself.

Which brings me to…

2. Realize family + money will = some discomfort.

Even though deciding who would pay for our wedding was relatively painless, there was still tension, at least on my part, as I worried about who would pay for what and specifically whether or not there would be enough money. I also worried over how many people we could invite, who would actually come and spent many sleepless nights fretting over not having enough space in the venue to feed all of our guests (I also had a dream at the early stages that we had to get married in my high school gym). I suppose everyone in the world has some sort of issues with money, so there's going to be some discomfort when you're suddenly asking for money from family members or deciding how much money each month you can save before the wedding. In the end, everything was fine. So just expect the discomfort and realize it is normal, which may make it easier to stomach.

3. Stay away from wedding magazines!

I know some women swear by them, but they gave me the shakes and made me break out into a cold sweat. Remember people, glossy magazines sell lots and lots of advertising! I found that paging through bridal books only made me start sweating the small stuff, like why hadn't I thought about what my place settings would look like?

During every part of the wedding-planning process I never actually needed a magazine. I only bought one once, when I was trying to decide on the flowers. And I regretted it, as it cost nearly £5 and there was a very limited selection of flowers in there – I had much better luck googling 'red and purple' flowers and seeing different combinations in the pictures results.

Instead, whenever I had a decision to make I would find out my options and then make a decision. Need a veil? Go to some bridal shops and try them on. Pick the one you like best. That sort of thing. It worked just fine for me. Bridal magazines just made me more confused about what I wanted and encouraged me to spend more money – a lose-lose situation.

4. If something isn't working, change it.

Essentially, I had to fire my hair lady about six weeks before the wedding (I swear, I was not a bridezilla). I should have gone with my gut as I knew from the trial that it wasn't really working -- she made me feel stressed out. But I thought I was being silly and uber sensitive (turns out I wasn't).

It transpired that although she had agreed to come to the venue and do my hair, my Mom's and my Maid of Honor's, she told me about six weeks beforehand that she couldn't get the time off from the salon and could she come to the house and start on our hair at 7 a.m.? I politely told her, via email (thank God for email these days) that I was sorry if there was a misunderstanding but I really needed someone to come to the venue, so it just wasn't going to work out.

In retrospect, it was a blessing in disguise as I still hadn't settled on someone to do my makeup. And when the hair lady flaked it gave me the opportunity to find someone who could do both. And Pam, my hair and makeup lady, was amazing. Not only did she do a good job, but she kept me calm -- and your hair and makeup person is the last person you really have contact with before you head off down the aisle. (If you live in London and you ever need someone to do your hair/makeup, check out her site here. And you can see a photo of my hair/makeup here.)

Thing is, you need to be comfortable with your vendors. Go with your gut and don't be afraid to make changes if things aren't working out. You might be happy you did.

5. No matter what goes wrong, it will be worth it on the day!

As I've written about before, I lost my voice the day before the wedding. It was pretty horrible. But it still didn't ruin things! (I got the vows out and gave a croaky speech.) In hindsight, I probably would have taken the whole week before the wedding off from work -- instead of only three days -- which may have helped me recover from my cold faster. But who knows? Maybe something else would have happened in that case.

You just can't plan for everything. So you do your best, but then also be safe in the knowledge that something strange will happen. But it will still all be OK, and in fact, wonderful. I promise.

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0

Worth It On The Day

Well, okay, so I'm a little depressed. Sad, at least (don't want to trivialize depression here). Not just because the wedding is over, but because for a fleeting week I had so many of my family and friends in London and I want to do it all over again – and spend more time with each and every one of them. I feel really homesick for them all.

The photographer sent me the photos on a DVD and it arrived today. As I looked through them again I had a flashback to when I was a child and would point at the pictures of books and exclaim to my mother, "Be in there? Be in there?" I consistently wanted to get out of everyday life and be part of the much more exciting story, whatever it was.

And so, I wanted to jump into the cocktail reception again. I could see groups of people talking and wanted to go back and wander up to them, maybe not in a white dress, but as a bride-double in a black cocktail dress and chat with them for ages. "So what do you really think about Taron's dress?" I'd say.

I suppose that this is a good thing – that in the end, despite all the work and the stress and the time I went to the ladies room at work one day at 11 a.m. and cried for no particular reason for a good 20 minutes, it was all worth it on the day. All the Saturdays spent running around London doing cupcake tastings and hair trials (and firing my first hair lady – this sounds more bridezilla-ish than it was), a never-ending e-mail inbox filled with questions from vendors and guests, hours of addressing envelopes and decision-making that ranged from the ridiculous (what proportion of chocolate cupcakes should we have) to the more serious (which vows should we say) – despite all this, I'd do it all over again.

And the Hub (at long last!!) actually summed up the reason why quite nicely. He said that he was a little surprised at how easy it all was. Not a performer like me, he had been worried about standing up in front of everyone so much – during the ceremony, while making a speech and the (very much dreaded) first dance. But in the end, he didn't find it nearly as hard as he thought. Why? Because everyone is rooting for you (I'm paraphrasing here). When you're getting married and everyone has come to see you, I think you could literally be speaking Pig Latin, wearing a garbage bag dress (as long as it's white) and everyone would still think you were the bees' knees. (Note: the Hub's speech was genuinely good and he said really nice things about me – he even mentioned Mind, Body & Scroll!)

There aren't many times in life when you can do no wrong. That's why, if you're not planning to get married, or if you just haven't yet, make sure you have a really big birthday party at some point in your life (see my post on More Parties, Please for more on this). Invite friends and family far and wide. There's no reason that everyone shouldn't have an opportunity to spend a lot of money to look good and then have a queue of people come up and hug them.

The Hub and I have been together for quite some time but it was great to finally say it out loud. And even better, to let everyone else celebrate it too. So I will say, for the record, the whole thing was pretty cool.

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4

Pleasure: Seeking It From Within

Writing a post on pleasure has made me think of so many things: the work ethic I grew up with, how puritanical America can seem when viewed with ex-pat eyes, and 'The American Dream' – and whether it is giving us any pleasure in the end. But I didn't want to write something about society as a whole – I wanted to think about day-to-day life and how I (or any of us) can experience pleasure more often. Pleasure comes with all sorts of good and bad connotations – how to know the difference between pleasure that is harmful and pleasure that is helpful?

What it comes down to for me is the difference between internal and external pleasure. Let me explain (because I know this sounds weird!). There are so many times in our life when we're looking for something outside of ourselves to make us feel good. Look at anything – work, relationships, food, friends, family. When I am praised by someone else it gives me pleasure, when I am loved by someone else it gives me pleasure. However, when this is what you seek, it's a losing game. I think that's because you're starting from a position of fear – and looking for something else or someone else to make you happy.

Even with something as confining as a job, I've noticed that when I seek out the things that I really like to do and try to steer it in the direction of things that excite me (including taking a job in the first place to begin with), I get much more pleasure from what I am doing. When early on in my career I took jobs because I thought that they were what I should be doing or that I'd impress someone by doing them, I got very little pleasure from the actual job.

It's when you realize that you've got the ability to create your own pleasure and that you don't need to get it from someone else or somewhere else that suddenly things feel lighter and easier. We didn't know it, but we already had the ruby slippers and the ability to get back to Kansas all along.

Seeking pleasure from within can be summed up in one of my favorite lines that Geneen Roth has written (from Women, Food and God), "We don't want to EAT hot fudge sundaes as much as we want our lives to BE hot fudge sundaes.We want to come home to ourselves." Again, the theme of pleasure linked with coming home. With what's within us already. Finding pleasure in food and relying on food for pleasure are two very different things.

Jealousy is my clear sign that I've strayed down the path towards seeking external pleasure. I know when I am feeling hurt by someone else's actions (that really have nothing to do with me) or when I suddenly feel like someone isn't meeting my needs then I need to re-think what is it I'm actually looking for. Trying to gain approval or acceptance from someone else is a dangerous way to live – it essentially boils down to controlling that which we have no control over.

Letting all of the uncontrollable things in life get in the way of finding pleasure would mean being miserable pretty much all of the time (since there are far too many of them). But when you can rely on yourself to generate pleasure, then you can suddenly stop worrying about everyone else. Not to say this is easy. I fall into the trap of trying to control things around me on a daily basis – trying to make sure that I stay padded against reality. A classic control freak.

But I'm working on it. With the wedding, for example. I'm working like a dog right now on all the details. But I am enjoying a lot of things I'm doing (perhaps despite appearances). And I've made a pact with myself that even though I'm working really hard right now, when the wedding week commences and my friends and family start descending upon London, I am going to stop worrying about all the little details, just let go and enjoy the time I have with them. Because I'm never going to get that time back.

Seeking pleasure from within isn't easy all the time, but in the end it's much more, well, pleasurable. But even more so, reliable.

This post is part of the Self-Discovery Word by Word series. To read more about it (or participate) check out Joy Tanksley's kick-off post for this month's word. She'll be posting a round-up at the end of the month.

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3

A Christmas Story (In January)

I've been accused recently of being out of season. Why? I served mulled wine at our book club meeting last night. Mulled wine is clearly on the pre-Christmas side of the calendar in this neck of the woods. However, in Germany, the drink made at Feuerazngenbowle (meaning literally 'fire-tongs punch') parties is a type of mulled wine where a rum-soaked sugar cone is set on fire to drip into the wine punch.

And although these parties happen before Christmas, they also typically happen in January when the weather is cold and you feel like having your friends around to sip a hot warming drink and watch a grown man set fire to a sugar cone. It's a great tradition (our friends who threw these parties have sadly left London).

So perhaps that's why I thought to serve mulled wine in January. Along the same lines I'm wondering if it's too late to tell a Christmas story.

But in light of last week's post about skipping the news, I thought that maybe the time was right. Sometimes there are good stories –and parents who do nice things. And who cares if it's not Christmas anymore? I'm so busy right now that I have to just be thankful that I get any ideas for blogs at all!

When I arrived home in New York this year for Christmas, my parents had moved all the furniture around for various reasons, which of course unnerved me to no end (heaven knows how I'll react when they eventually sell the family home and move South in pursuit of warmer weather and cheaper taxes, as they are threatening).

Due to the fact that all the furniture had been shuffled around, coupled with my 24-hour stay-awake-a-thon on Christmas Eve – a day that was populated with a 5 a.m. wake-up, a seven-hour flight, two Christmas parties, a Christmas pageant and a midnight Christmas Eve service – I didn't really notice that the piano was gone.

When I was young I wanted to play the piano more than anything. I had a little toy piano with a minuscule keyboard that I used to play the easy songs taught by my music class teacher. I'm not sure it even had an octave on it. I was only five years old, but was completely obsessed.

But we didn't have a piano. I have no idea what our family's financial situation was at the time (I've never asked), but I assume that plunking down thousands of dollars for a piano was either not an option or not an option at that particular moment. Luckily a family at our church had a spare piano that no one was using, so they lent it to us. They never wanted it back, so it became ours (or mine, I guess) and has been sitting at my parents' house collecting dust while I live my life overseas.

When I finally noticed it was gone this trip home, we had just sat down the four of us to do our 'family Christmas' after the drive back from Grandma's. The tree was sitting it its former resting place so really it couldn't have been more obvious. When I asked where it was, my parents told me "I'd see" what had happened to it.

My parents had decided the piano could be put to better us than sitting there with no one to play it, so they contacted my piano teacher (also a close family friend) and found out if she had any students or potential students who needed a piano. Turns out she did, so the piano made its way into the little girl's hands. My parents had two terms – they wanted a picture of her with the piano to show me and an invitation to her first recital.

When I saw the picture I burst into tears. My Mom said, "Are you crying because we gave your piano away?" (Apparently when she told my brother the plan he assessed, "Well, it could go either way…")

What kind of person do they think I am?

No, I wasn't crying because I was now lacking a piano (that I wasn't even using) but because I was so moved by their gesture and in fact remember very clearly how badly I had wanted to take piano lessons. I was barely six when it arrived and I still remember that day and the excited happiness I felt. And to know that someone else could experience that same feeling (coupled with very bad jet lag and all the general emotional stuff that comes along with Christmas with the family), was more than enough to send me to that teary place and over the edge to actual real crying.

I ended up studying piano for 12 years after the borrowed piano arrived. And I continued to love it. I will study again at some point, but as I talked about in my post on creativity, I do think there's a time for everything and now is not the time for it (we also haven't found a space for a piano or even a keyboard in the flat yet).

Not to brag too much about my parents – but I do think what they did is pretty cool. I only wish I had thought of it.

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Coming Home

I have been at home (aka my parents' house) for about six days now. My flight left the UK just in time – narrowly missing snowstorms on both sides of the Atlantic. A few days on either side and I wouldn't have made it. And apart from spending 24 hours awake straight on Christmas Eve, and dealing with the very cold temperature my parents tend keep the house, it's been really nice to be here.

I am learning very quickly how to keep a good fire going in the wood burning stove (my Dad prefers the burning of wood over oil any day).

For the first time since I can remember, I am home for two straight weeks and am not making myself crazy by running around to see everyone. It helps that there will be pre-wedding-related activities where I will see many of my friends. But I am consciously trying to create more down time and space for myself to actually relax. This isn't easy and can make me uncomfortable – I thrive on being busy, socializing and getting things done.

So I am trying to relish the more leisurely pace. I'm staying out of New York City more than usual while I'm here, and instead curling up in front of the fire with a book (or my net book like right now!).

It's not often in our lives that we can actually come home and our meals get made for us by Dad and we get chauffeured around by Mom to CVS (chemist) to get toiletries we didn't bother filling up on pre-trip. I don't have to buy groceries here or make my own bed. What a luxury. And it's also one of those rare moments in time where everyone is healthy (ish) and relatively well and the family is full of excitement about the trip over to London for the upcoming wedding. Boy, am I grateful. And aware that I must savor it, for life is a continuous cycle of ups and downs and nothing stays constant for long.

Don't let these rare kinds of moments pass you by.

Related Posts:

• Bicentennial Baby*
• Wanted: Body Vacation**
• The Amazing Body Clock***

*I recently actually bought two pairs of skinny jeans. I'm just embracing them – and hoping I look slightly OK.
**Although I'm really enjoying this holiday I have had to do A LOT of physio exercises post flight. Staying up for 24 hours straight in one day really killed me – everything ached but I think I've finally pulled all the tight muscles out.
***Woke up last night at 3 a.m. starving – some sort of jet-lag related hunger I think. But three Triscuits (one of my favorites) from the kitchen did the trick.

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Friday Find: On Xmas Gifts

I'm trying something new. I know lots of bloggers do a round of up of their week's favourite posts on Friday, so I'm totally stealing the idea, but with my own twist.

I plan to point out only one post/article (doesn't have to be a blog) I've read during the week that I really liked, made me think or affected me in some way. I'll try to comment relatively extensively on it as well – it may even turn into a real blog post instead of just a link. We'll see!

So this week, and I'm not even sure if he wrote it this week (but hey, cut me a little slack on this first one) is Leo Babauta's post on the case against buying Christmas presents. I forwarded it to a colleague of mine, which made me think, 'hey, I should point this out to my lovely blog readers!'

Christmas presents are a divisive thing. Some people just love giving them, some people find them really stressful and there is always the view that they are just for kids. The reason I liked Babauta's post so much is he really thoroughly addresses all the arguments that everyone uses as to why we should keep giving them (WHAT? NO CHRISTMAS PRESENTS?) and comes back with some well thought-out answers.

The spirit of gifts is great. But the reality can be just the opposite.

I think the crux of the issue these days is time. Time should be our greatest gift to ourselves and others. For example, no one can make gifts these days because they don't have the 'time'. But even if we didn't sacrifice time to make a batch of chocolate chip cookies or photo albums for each other, what about just trying to spend more time as a family doing something together instead of opening gifts? Playing a board game, going for a walk, even – hey – just talking. When did we all get so busy?

Don't get me wrong, I love giving gifts. And I don't even find it that stressful. But I know plenty of people who do. Also, Babauta's whole 'people in this world are still going hungry' really resonated. Often we just give up on creativity and give something useless to someone just because we feel we have to. Like when you buy one of those baskets of soap & lotion (come on, you know you've done it and it's a total I-didn't-know-what-to-buy-for-you-so-I-bought-you-something-smelly cop out gift). Why not donate that money to charity?

But even resolving the gift giving issue amongst our families and friends takes time and effort and a wiliness to confront our own issues. And who has time for that?

Maybe the best way to resolve it is to decide on your own gift-giving policy and set an example. Ask people to make donations to specific charities for you (to handle the incoming gifts) and then decide you're only going to spend £10 or $20 on each person, or nothing at all, and make your own gifts – force yourself to get really creative. I especially like Babauta's suggestion to only buy things from charity shops or passing on your treasured items – that way you're essentially recycling, instead of consuming. I might try that next year.

Food for thought, anyway, as Christmas fast approaches. I still have about six gifts left to buy – arrrgh! And that's my first Friday Find.

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Upstaged By The Royals

As I've said before, planning a wedding is an interesting process. Luckily I'm actually a good project manager, so as I've actually got going on the tasks, it seems more controllable and less stressful than I thought it would be. And I do love a bit of Excel. Give me some spreadsheets to play with and I'm very happy (and wedding planning spreadsheets don't involve too many calculations, or scary things like macros).

I'm still waiting for tantrums from family members or big fights, but so far, so good (I know, I'm jinxing it!). Even Future Hub and I haven't had too many words over it recently – although he tried not to let me register for a gravy boat last Saturday at Debenhams, which could have got very ugly (he conceded).

Perhaps getting married at a later age (ripe old 34) has made the whole thing a bit easier. I think I'm better at getting things done and more level-headed about the importance of decisions like the colors or the kind of cake we want. Despite the fact that the head of food at the catering company gave us the hairy eyeball when we chose poultry for both our courses (duck and chicken), I have been able to get on with my life.

The thing I'm enjoying most about the wedding planning process is the fact that I am talking (or emailing) with my friends and family back home in the States a lot more than usual. Even if it's just negotiations over hotel rooms or my Mom asking how it will be possible for guests to buy us presents that will be delivered in England (newsflash – they do have department stores in the UK that will accept US credit cards), I'm getting a lot more time with everyone.

Case in point was the email I received from my aunt in Wisconsin this morning asking if we could possible postpone our wedding to coincide with Kate and Will's Royal one? She has been a long-time follower of the Royals, reading about them in the papers while eating her breakfast cereal for years. It was the big joke when she first met Future Hub. We took her to Windsor Castle which included a little stroll through Eton where the princes went to school. She proceeded to exclaim, "I always though it was so mean that the princes were sent off to boarding school – but turns out they were right down the road from their Grandmother's house!"

I'm sure there will be many more stressful moments. I'm still sweating over the guest list, worried about who will be upset if I can't invite them and if we're actually going to be able to fit everyone into the venue. I'm certainly not looking forward to the seating chart. But the flip side is that because people are important to me, it's also the best part of planning the wedding. It's fun – and it allows our families, including our extended families, to take part in our lives like they haven't been able to before. Because I'm convinced more and more that this wedding isn't as much about us as much as it is about us and the people who matter to us, who will provide our support network throughout the years – which I think every marriage needs.

P.S. I can't believe Kate and Wills are upstaging us like this!

Related Posts:

• More Parties, Please
• People Pleasing

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People Pleasing

On Wednesday, I shared a little insight about what I'm learning through this whole wedding-planning process. Another one has since occurred to me.

So here is wedding-planning lesson number two: Things that you generally get upset about will also make you upset during the planning process – but on a much more magnified scale. If you're a people-pleaser like me, planning a wedding and sorting out the guest list is a veritable mine field. You can't make everyone happy and I've had a few sleepless nights trying to figure out if maybe this concept is actually wrong – that maybe I can make everyone happy! (My brain is like a big blackboard with equations scribbled over it as I try to prove the theorem: me + trying really hard = happiness for all creatures, big and small).

Being a people pleaser is not a great thing generally and it's something I really struggle with. I did some sessions with my friend while she was training to become a life coach and one of the exercises she gave me to do was to say 'no' to at least one thing everyday, no matter how small the request was.

Cue terrifying music. In fact, I'm not sure I even did the task I found it so daunting. This is not like me, as I'm such a goody two shoes that now I'm worried she is reading this and is upset with me for not doing it.

I'll give you another example of my general people-pleasing tendencies. My friend was buying a cookie at the coffee bar the other day and this is my recollection of our conversation:

Me: I have one of those cookies in my desk drawer. I wish I had known you were going to buy one, I would have given it to you. I don't even like them.

Her: Then why do you have one in your desk drawer?

Me: Well, someone gave it to me and I didn't want to offend them by not taking it.

Look, I know this sort of behavior isn't normal. But I'm working on it! Throwing a colossal party into the mix with a guest list of people from a few different continents is certainly giving me a lot of practice.

For one thing, I have seriously scaled down my social life to give me time to do all the wedding-y stuff. How else will I have time to trawl through photographers' websites and decide what color my shoes will be? This means saying no to friends, which I'm not great at (because I genuinely do love seeing them). But I've done it.

The problem with being a people pleaser is the only person who ends up miserable is you. I am trying to put myself first these days more and more. It sounds selfish, but it's not, because when I'm tired, cranky and overwhelmed from taking on too much, the people who suffer most are me and those people closest to me – the ones who have to see me day in and day out (like Future Hub). When I say 'yes' to everyone I become a much less loving and caring person.

So I'm working on it – and as I just stated, this wedding is good practice. Maybe I should try my friend's coaching exercise again. If you hear me say 'no' to you, please understand – maybe even pat me on the back?

(Incidentally, my friend's coaching business has now taken off. She specializes in career fulfillment and career transition. Jung is based in California, but does a lot of work over the phone. If you're interested, check out her website.)

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More Parties, Please

I haven't been writing very much about our upcoming nuptials, mostly because I don't think people find hearing about weddings all that interesting. But it is a very interesting process and I thought it might be worthwhile to share with you a few things I've observed (or learned) over the past few months.

So here's one of them: Get ready for people you don't even know to get really excited. Getting married isn't actually an accomplishment so to speak. Is it? I'd be curious to hear what you think. I think it's really one of the least impressive things I've done in my life. But the fuss! I believe I'm incredibly lucky to have found someone who's willing to put up with me as long as we both shall live even though I'm a control freak, like a fair bit of reality TV programming (see my blog post about MasterChef) and can be buffoonish at times. But is that an accomplishment?

It's shocking how a wedding can make complete strangers start drooling while they ask you where you're getting married and what your dress looks like. Much of this may be due to the fact that weddings are big business. When you start making enquiries about venues, you get treated with the utmost of respect about 'your special day', in the hope of drawing you in and parting you with a huge amount of cash (or your parents').

Or it could be a societal thing. It's in all our best interest to encourage people to couple up and mate – and weddings often precede children. I really do hope that I get at least one wedding card that says "Thanks for making the first step towards keeping the human race going. But we want our gift back if there's no sprog within five years!"

I think a lot of things about weddings are antiquated. Not everyone gets married anymore, and so why can't we have more ways to celebrate life with our families and friends? We should have 'Flying the Nest' parties to equip our young twenty somethings with toasters and pepper mills. We should have bigger landmark birthday parties so people who aren't getting married (for whatever reason) can have the feeling of friends and family coming long distances to show their love. Having people tell me that they are coming to London to celebrate with us makes me feel great – so why shouldn't more people experience it?

Maybe another reason that people like to talk about weddings is that they're just making conversation, and hey, sometimes life isn't so fun, so talking about a happy occasion makes sense. People like to reminisce about their wedding day and in most people's minds weddings represent hope, new beginnings and love.

Maybe I should stop being such a scrooge. Ask me about my wedding, I promise I'll be nice. But, I still do think that society does need to re-think some of the more old fashioned ideas about weddings and ways to celebrate our lives and accomplishments in other ways. In other words, more parties, please (I do love a good party).

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