Changes....

I started this blog a little over a year ago to document my visa process and subsequent move to the UK. It's been a whirlwind of a year and so much has changed that I feel it only right that I let go of this little blog and begin anew.

If you would like to follow me as I continue my journey (I just threw up in my mouth at the cheesiness of that line, so please forgive me) the new blog is going to be at:

http://brightonbeachmemoirs-sarah.blogspot.com/

There should be something new up in the next few days, mostly depending on my level of slackerliness. Kind thanks for reading.

I'm at a loss...

Forgive me I am in a mood. A serious no good very bad mood. My amazing, wonderful, intelligent, funny, lovely uncle passed away this week and I'm sad. I wish I could have told him I loved him one last time, and I wish I were there to grieve with my family. It sucks that I'm so far away and it reminds me so much of the limits of living in a foreign country. Even if I had jumped on the first available flight, I still wouldn't have made it. The words 'this sucks' don't even quantify how I feel.

My Uncle Don was amazing. He wrote the book on compassion and loyalty and he should have been given a medal for how non-judgemental he was. The man was a perfect gentleman. If I had a son that was even half the man he was, I would be proud. My Uncle Don taught me one of the most important lessons in my life- how to laugh, and how to be teased. I was pretty much the baby of the family and I got teased for my chicken legs etc. all the time and I used to get MAD. But, I liked to joke with Uncle Don. However, he made it clear that if I couldn't take a joke- I couldn't dish one out. He made me laugh, and danced with me to Chantilly Lace and protected me when I sincerely needed it. I can't imagine life without him, and I treasure every memory of him. He was the best.

Uncle Don, I will miss you. Thank you for teaching me how to laugh. I love you.

Me and my apostles...

I now live in the man house. Yep, I'm living on testosterone terrace. And, when I say me and my apostles, it's not because I think I'm Jesus and I'm about to wash their feet or get betrayed or any of that- they're just named after three of the apostles. And, they like Jesus. Well, I'm just assuming they like Jesus, cause I mean who doesn't?

Anyway, thus far, I really like it here. I kinda get treated like the house princess (which frankly, I am) and they do sweet things like carry all the heavy stuff and bring me cups of tea and glasses of wine. Yup, they've got me figured out. There does tend to be a lot of football (of the soccer variety) watched, but I suppose that's par for the course. I can't really expect the lads to be excited about My Big Fat Gypsy Weddings, now can I?

I did see something so horrifying today that reminded me of the fact that I live in a boy house. And, boys are sorta gross. Scratch that, boys can be fucking gross. Anyway, I thought I would be nice and clean the bathrooms today. I won't go into the horrors of what I saw, but suffice to say I am scarred for life. I am also never lifting the toilet brush from its container EVER AGAIN. Some things cannot be unseen, and blech, ugh, gross- I literally puked. Like I said, boys are gross.

It's lucky they're all so lovely and they treat me well and make me giggle and tell me I'm pretty. Soooo, I suppose I can deal with their grossness. I am just never using the upstairs bathroom ever again. Or attempting to clean it. They are on their own.

So I'm settling in with my apostles. It's pretty nice.

"I don't trust men that have beards...

... I don't trust men that wear sandals. I don't trust caravan owners." - Dude on Come Dine With Me

Amen. I'll add short guys and blonde guys to that list. (Yes, I know I'm blonde, it's a bit of hypocrisy I practice.)

Anyway, I had some nice things happen tonight. Or at least some things that made me chuckle.

- The 18 year old (if he's a day) who works at my local pub said I was "well fit" and asked would I like to go to dinner with him? As they say here, awwww bless. I had no words, which is rare for me. I always have words. Too many, in point of fact. I just giggled and said, "I bet you say that to all the girls." Then I ran away.

- This actually happened a few days ago but I forgot to share it as my memory is like a sieve. One of the first boys I ever kissed found me on facebook and sent me loads of flirty little messages. The flattering flatterer (we all know I love that) told me that he would be rich if he had my voice. Dang, how come I'm not rich?

- I feel totally at home in my little village now. Besides being asked out by the little barmen, I have been recognized on the street today, at the cafe, and at the market. It's nice to feel like I'm a little Brit. I also got teased at the pub tonight for wearing a Liverpool hoodie. It's not like I'm a fan but I forgot in Britain that soccer is a serious sport. Oooops.

Anyway, overall it's been a wonderful day. I really do love living here in Antartica, even when my mom says it's 70 degrees and gorgeous sunshine at home.

Day by day...

...i'm growing stronger, as the song from my religious days in the past says. Some days though, you just have to stop, recognize your limits and go the fuck home.

Tonight, I strapped on my sparkle headband (after an absolute shit week) and went out with a group. And, I just wasn't ready. I tried. I wore a dress. I wore liquid eyeliner. And the whole time, I just wanted to go home and watch Come Dine With Me in my jammies. So, I left. Sure, some folks seemed disappointed that I left at 9:30- but I just couldn't stay any longer. So, I went home, washed my face and put my hair up in a ponytail and layed down on the sofa.

I feel better now. I wish I could be the girl that isn't sensitive, and isn't sometimes jaded and hopes, hopes, hopes eternally. I am. But, sometimes I just need to go the fuck home. Tonight was one of those nights. I'm still hopeful.

Ooooooh sparkly...

I must have been a raccoon in a former life. Sparkly things make me happy. Really happy.

Anyway, I digress. I finished the paper that was mentioned in the previous blog of stressy panic and crazy. Amen. So it is written, so it is done and all that. And, I am even considering starting on the monster beast of epic wordness that is due next Friday. I know, crazy right?

This means that today I am free and easy and I am enjoying myself mightily. Once I clean the disgusting tip that I call my house, I'm going to head into town for a bit of shopping and then off to a dance class. In fact, I'm taking my very first dance class in Yorkshire. And, also my very first dance class in the UK since I moved here in September. We'll talk about that in a second- let's get back to sparkly things. I am wearing my most very favorite sparkly headband (daytime tiara) and I feel like a million bucks. I'm hoping the sparkly headband distracts from my general out-of-shapeness in class tonight.

I feel kind of ashamed that I haven't taken class since I've been here. I think this is probably the longest I've ever been out of the studio since I was a young'un. And here's why, brace yourself- I behaved like a fucking moron last year. I let myself get wrapped up in a crappy relationship where we virtually never left the house. And then when it ended I dissolved into a teary mess of 'why me, why me' tears. Yuck. Never again.

I've tried to analyze why I a. let myself think I was happy with a guy that treated me pretty crappily b. allowed myself to get sucked into a cycle of staying in every night like a bunch of fucking hermits and c. was really gutted and a sloppy mess of crazy when said boring, crappy, totally unfun relationship ended. Sheesh, I should have thrown a party when he walked out. I don't have a clear answer as to why, I just know that I will never stay in a situation like that again.

I feel a bit like I'm in that Garth Brooks song "Unanswered Prayers." (Don't you go judging my secret love for country music) I wake up every morning feeling so in love with my life it's unreal. Ok, maybe I feel a bit less cheery on essay deadline mornings, but y'all know what I mean. I've made a group of friends that are ever expanding, I'm dating this amazing man (yeah, yeah I know I haven't talked about him yet- but that's for another blog) I'm making it through this MA somehow and I absolutely love living in England. I feel like this paragraph is totally Pollyanna, so I'll stop here.

So yeah yeah, this has been a very happy new year for this girl. And, I really like sparkly things.

Seriously, just shoot me now...

I hate being such a major, giant, huge ridiculous procrastinator. I have 3000 words due on Monday and I've written, oh I don't know- eleven? Not to make excuses, but *ahem* here goes:

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO WRITE ABOUT!!!!!

Thus far today I have pretty much done everything to avoid this assignment, WHICH IS DUE MONDAY. This included activities such as cleaning my salt and pepper shakers, rearranging my collection of bee-yoo-tiful boots and vacuuming the stairs. I am so fucked.

The problem is not the 3000 words. It's the fact that the 3000 words are a statement of intention for my huge ass research project that is essentially my dissertation. I don't want to spend the next eight months of my life researching something that makes me want to blow my brains out. Le sigh.

There have been some other happy developments in Sarah-land recently but I'm hesitant to mention anything lest I jinx myself. Suffice to say, I am a very happy and lucky girl of late. Now, if I could just finish this bloody assignment!!!