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!!!

Decisions, decisions...

So today I made a big choice. I was planning to move into my own little flat and today I decided to instead move into a houseshare. With boys. I know the main boy really well so it's not like I'm moving in with random dudes, and I'm hopeful it will be a nice place to live. I've never lived with boys (er, men) that weren't my partner, so this should be a grand adventure. A few of my male friends have been teasing me about how gross boys are, but I figure I can keep them in line. I think I made a good decision. I'll be able to travel more, buy more shoes, and spend time hanging out with my new roomies. If it doesn't work out, I'll move out and find my own place. This is all a big adventure and I want to keep jumping into it with two feet, even if sometimes my heart gets a little bit bruised.

One of my favorite people in the world today told me that I'm the most adorable, amazing mess he knows. When someone else calls you a mess, it stings a little. Even when it's prefaced with adorable and amazing. He's right though, I am and always will be a little bit of a mess. But, aren't we all?

I'm doing really well though. I feel optimistic and the school work is getting there. Just eleventy thousand words to go! My new housemate said today that it looks like I'm getting back to my happy-go-lucky self. I'm getting back to that carefree, fun California girl that is definitely strong and smart enough to make it in England. Here's hoping.

Another one bites the dust...

Le sigh. So, the sweet, charming, and funny guy I met the other day has decided that he is going to be smart, charming and funny with somebody else. We only went on one date, but after over 50 emails and many, many texts combined with a fantastic date- I'm left feeling pretty disappointed. I'm not crying into my cheerios, but I am bummed out.

Everyone keeps telling me to stop looking, focus on myself and enjoy being single. It's great advice but it's much easier said than done. I really hate being single. I like cooking dinner with someone every night and cuddling on the couch. I like having someone to text all the time and vent to about school or work or whatever. I know Mr. Right is out there somewhere and I just need to be patient. But anyone who knows me knows that patience is NOT my strongest suit. I guess it's not as if I have any choice at this point.

I was kinda proud of myself yesterday. When Dom and I split I was a snotty mess for a few weeks. I didn't leave the house or even shower unless I was forced to go to school. I stopped eating and lost nearly ten pounds (all of which came back when I went home- I blame In-n-Out and Taco Bell) and I was basically a mess. Yesterday, I saw the hand writing on the wall with email date dude, and rather than wallow at home I got dressed, slapped on my sparkle headband and walked up to the pub with my book. And, wouldn't you know it I made some new friends. Actually, it was kind of funny how I met the new friends. I saw a couple come into the pub and just glancing at them, I could tell the girl was American. It's sort of like a sixth sense I have, Yankee radar or something. Anyway, I saw her go out for a cigarette and I leaped out of my seat, knocking an old man over in the process, to also go and smoke. I asked for a light and she heard my accent and we immediately launched into bitching about the lack of Taco Bell and good hot wings. She introduced me to everyone in the pub and the old man I knocked over will probably live. It was a good night out.

I have decided to move out of the house that Dom and I moved into together and into my own place. It's time. This place doesn't hold a lot of good memories for me and I'm ready to have my own little apartment. I plan to make it extra super duper girly and cheerful. I'm looking forward to a year of fresh starts and hope. Lots of hope.

Happy New Year and all that...

Happy New Year to all three of you that read my blog! It's been a hell of a year and I'm feeling pretty positive about 2011. Jenn and I are nursing our hangovers and bitching that we can't have breakfast tacos in this Mexican food wasteland. I do really like it here, but there need to me more diners and places that serve delicious Mexican food. On New Years Day at 11 a.m. Wishful thinking I suppose.

In the New Year I plan to be really fucking positive. I'm always cheerful (for the most part) but sometimes I forget the forest for the trees (pardon the cliche) and I let myself think negatively. Honestly, what good comes of that?

I met someone the other night. He's really wonderful and smart and handsome and I'm trying not to get ahead of myself and plan our children's names or china pattern. I'm just going to chill out and enjoy this one. He seems great and I really hope it works out and all that.

I have a tattoo on my foot that says 'hope.' While I know this is cheesy as can be, sometimes I look down and see it and feel really fucking hopeful. So, that's my motto for the New Year- Hope. Not lose weight, or stop smoking or any of that- I just want to live positively and hope.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Home again...

and it feels so good. Everyone keeps talking about how cold it is here, and I'm constantly like "jigga what? It's balmy and warm here psychos!" Anyway, I've fallen into a time warp and I'm back to this summer. Literally. I came back from the bar this evening (again time warp!) after work and my mom had washed and hung my work shirt in my room. Can I get a boo-yeah? I love the magical car full of gas, fridge full of food and laundry that magically cleans itself. Can I stay here?

I'm back to work, which is typically full of ups and downs. I literally threw a menu at a customer tonight. He was being a prick and deserved it, but still I threw a menu at him. Not going to lie, I felt better afterwards. Remarkably, he left me a $2 tip on $25, hmm I wonder why? Other than the assholes, it's nice being back at work. And tips are luuurvely.

So yeah, I'm back briefly. I am considering extending my stay here, but I'm not sure if I'll do any work in this lovely, fun environment. Meanwhile I'm enjoying the compliments (I missed my regulars at work and their love), sun, family, and my big brown dog. Oh, and proper cocktails. God bless the USA.

One of those days....

It's one of those days. You know the really shitty ones, where you feel really shitty and you feel like throwing things at the world for being such a shitty inhospitable place. Yup. That's today.

I'm trying to stay positive and stick it out until I leave for America on Monday. It sucks.

Anyway, so I was watching Sex and the City (why yes I have become a cliche, deal with it) and it was the episode where Aiden moves out and she faces losing her apartment. To put it mildly, I could totally relate.

It brought me to really thinking about home, and the idea of home. I felt really at home here when Dom and I lived together, to the point that I cried when I landed in Manchester in November. But, now that he's decided to be an *insert expletive here* I'm feeling really discombobulated.

The fact of the matter is- I have to stay in the UK. At least until 2012 when I graduate and become a master. I like to consider myself to be becoming "the master," but that's another point entirely. So, essentially, this is my home now. I've lived a lot of places (at least 19 from a quick count) and I've felt at home in many of those places. Some, not so much. So, what is home then to me? I'm from the Bay Area, lived a big chunk of my 20's in Fresno and now I live in the UK. Home is home (mom's house) but it's here too. I did love it here until my world came crashing down, which leads me to believe I'll love it again. So then will I feel at home? Am I so fickle that I only feel at home when I'm happy? That's pretty damn shallow if that's the truth.

Excuse the crazy, it keeps popping up even when I try to keep it down. It'll be gone soon.

I go 'home' Monday. I'm thrilled to bits. I go back to my old job for a few weeks (oh how I miss tips) and I get to be pampered by mommy. My sister will drive me crazy and the fat dog will try and sit on my lap. I'm going to eat my weight in Mexican Food, Sushi and American food in general. Vanessa and I will drink at the Black Watch and I'll moan about not wanting to go to work. It's going to be amazing. And then I'll come back to my home here. Maybe that will be amazing too?

To go out or not to go out....

I feel I ought to go out tonight, as this party girl knows her party panties are growing mold. But, bollocks this weather SUCKS! It's a foot of snow outside and I know I can't wear cute shoes. Ugh, I'm being a whiner I know it- but this weather blows! I can't wait to go home and drive a car in non-snowy weather, wear high heels to the bar and schmooze it up with my friends. Maybe I'll just put my liver on hold until then.

Nah.

Good times and bad times...

I haven't posted here in a long time. Le sigh, I wish I had posted during the happy-go-lucky time of when I first moved to the UK. Things have been rough lately, my mom was really sick and I had to quickly fly back home to the States to be with her. She's better now, and here's hoping she continues to improve. Sometimes things aren't puppies and sunshine. Sometimes things are really fucking hard. If I've learned anything in my 29 years, it's that things get better. Eventually.

So, for now I'm focusing on my mom improving. I have great friends. It's Thanksgiving week and there is a helluva lot to be thankful for. It'll get better.

Space Bags are...

... the cat's pajamas. The dog's bollocks. The porcupines pinafore. The ferret's frock. Ok, ok I'll stop. But, seriously dude- they're totally awesome. Yes, I just said dude, totally and awesome in the same sentence. I watch a lot of bad reality TV, so sue me. Anyway, these space gizmos are going to enable me to pack a LOT more clothes than I thought I'd be able to. Always good news for a little clothes horse like me.

I'm 70% packed as of this point. I can hear you dying of excitement at this news, but heck it's exciting for me. Currently, I feel like I hear the word exciting 100 times a day. And here's why: my lovely friend Vanessa also works in a restaurant, and she advised me to tell everyone that I'm leaving for grad school in a foreign country at the end of the week. Her *very smart* opinion was that it will increase my tips by quite a bit. And she's totally right. Here's a typical conversation between me and a customer at work. Usually, while I'm giving them their bill they'll bring up next time they'll be in or something of the sort.

Me: "Oh bummer dude, next time you come in I won't be here anymore. Saturday is my last day, because I'm moving."

Customer- "Really? Where are you moving?"

Me: "Actually, I'm moving to the UK."

Customer: "Wow, the UK! Oh my goodness, how exciting!"

Me: "Yes, yes I'm very excited."

Customer: "Well that's just great. Why?"

Me: "I'm going to Graduate School there."

Customer: "Grad School, what for? That's so exciting!"

Me: "Theatre. Yes, yes thank you I'm very excited."

And so on. The word exciting might come up 6 more times.

Then they tip me double what they would have and go about their merry way. I literally have this conversation 20 times a day. Even my regulars who've known for the past couple of weeks talk about how "excited" they are for me. It's kinda cool. It's kinda daunting.

I'm really excited. :)

Seven more days...

...Until I leave for Europe. Eeeps. This is "get shit actually done and don't spend all the time you're not working laying in the sun and shopping" week. I won't bore you with the mundane details of what needs to get done, just know that it's all the boring crap I don't want to do or it would be done already. Yuck. Oh, and my lovely job scheduled me every night until I leave- except tomorrow. So, guess who will be slinging martini's on her last night in the US?

Unless of course, I storm out of the restaurant in fury before then. You see, one of the "managers" has taken to harassing me because Jersey Shore bitch from the previous blog is her bff. Le sigh. Hopefully she won't push me over the edge before I leave, because I actually like and respect the other managers, and would hate to put them in a crappy situation. Also, if I can stick it out- I win. She tried to fire me tonight, but she had to consult with another manager and they wouldn't allow it. I think her main beef with me, (and the other staff agrees) is that I'm bubbly and I'm always walking around laughing or with a smile on my face. Yes, I know that's easy for me to do because I leave soon, but I'm pretty much cheerful in general. I may be a total worrier, but I do it with a smile.

Anyway, enough work talk. I started packing last night. Um, if you know me at all, you know I have an eensy shopping problem. And, I sorta like boots. A lot. I've decided to only take two suitcases and a carry on, and only ship stuff if necessary. :( It's hard. But, it makes me feel kinda footloose and fancy free. I can pare my life down to three bags. I'm totally zen.

All work and no play...

I suppose that's a major exaggeration, because while I am on Day Six of Seven days straight working- we all know that I prioritize going out over less important things like sleep, or proper liver function. Anyway, I was supposed to have tonight and tomorrow off, but the other bartender went all Jersey Shore on me last night, and then stormed out like a bratty child- so I'm stuck working her Thursday and Friday. Le sigh.

This did however enable me to have Saturday off (gotta love California labour laws- suck it work), which I intend to spend in San Francisco shopping and dining with Rico. And drinking fruity cocktails in fruity bars. Boo yeah.

Today, Dominic said something that really made me think. I was moaning about having to hand in my notice tomorrow, and how I feel guilty about it, and blah blah blah. I'm guessing I'll work six days a week for my last two weeks, and Dom said that I'm sorta wasting my time working so much during my last couple of weeks in the U.S. And he's right. I'm missing out on opportunities to see friends, spend time with my family, and consume lots of Sushi and Mexican cuisine. So, I'm going to try to finagle it so that I only work eight or nine more days. We'll see how that goes.

It's been a long week, so I'm going to put my feet up in front of the TV and watch Top Chef with a cold Sweet Piece of Jesus. I totally Macgyvered myself a cocktail shaker, and now I feel smug and clever. Clearly, I'm easily pleased.

I'll miss you...

I'm going through a bit of a rough patch. I know this is Karaazzy as I'm moving forward and onto a fabulous life in the UK, but things are in a bit of a turmoil in my wee little brain right now. I just got settled here. I have a job, new friends, people know me at the cafe and the grocery store, and I'm a regular at my local.

Now, I get to start all over. Ugh. It's amazing and it sucks. I'm starting to say my goodbyes and frankly, it's fucking awful. Part of me wants to savour these last 20 something days, and part of me just wishes they were over and I were on the plane. I know that really it's a "see you soon," and not a "goodbye"- but there's a fine, fine line- if you like musical theatre and you know what I mean. It's sucky/amazing and my head is totally spinning.

I don't know what the future holds. How long will I be in the UK? When besides Christmas will I be back? I'm so excited and freaked out, it's unreal. I've even lost my appetite, which sucks because I was going to consume as much sushi and Mexican food in the next 22 days possible. I guess I'll just have to live with the memory. And, I'll be home soon. Or soonish.

I keep saying things to Dom like "When I visit," or "On Vacation'" and then I realize I'm not visiting. I won't be on vacation. Wow. I'm moving to England. Hopefully, it will sink in soon.

It's so surreal...

...My visa arrived in the mail today. I booked my ticket and I leave for England in 26 days. This whole process has gone so smoothly, and I have totally sweated it the entire time. So, let this be a lesson to future Sarah- dude, chill out.

Today, I've been thinking a lot about things I'm going to miss and things I'm looking forward to. So here's a list of both, because I can hear you dying in anticipation.

Things I'll miss-

My family and friends

Jackson the Wonder Dog

Proper Sushi

Queso available everywhere

Getting lots of ice

Cheap, strong cocktails

Peet's Coffee

Mexican Restaurants

People saying "Have a nice day"

Sunshine 80% of the time

Downtown Los Gatos

Nordstrom, Sephora and DSW

The trashy TV shows I watch like Teen Mom

24 hour stores (although I think the Asda near us is 24 hour- so this may be wrong)

Lots of closet space

Things I'm Looking Forward To-

Dominic!

Seeing all my old friends and making new ones

Fish and Chips and Mushy Peas

Oh! and Nando's

Primark (Yep, I just said Primark)

Being able to wear boots most of the year

Experiencing a different culture

Inexpensive dance classes

Mussels at Cafe Rouge

Decent Public Transport

Kate Nash in October

Starting school- I'm a wee bit nervous, like should I wear a backpack?

Traveling in Europe

Sunday Crossword at the pub

Pubs in general

My first Thanksgiving abroad

Yummy Indian food

Shopping!

That's all for now. I'm going to go get ready to get a proper cocktail with a friend. I have to soak up as much of the things I'm going to miss while I can.

Can you believe it? I'm moving to another country. Crazy.

To Ballet or to Bollywood...

...I'm kinda happy right now. Even though I miss the boy, and I'm stressed about my visa- I have 2 days IN A ROW off! Wahoo! Spring Break! (To temper the excitement, I keep reminding myself that it's fairly certain I'll pick up a shift Thursday- dum-de-dum-dum) The best part is that my biggest concern for tomorrow is whether to take Ballet or Bollywood Dance. I'm guessing I'll go with Bollywood Dance because I'm cheap like that (Ballet= $15, Bollywood=Free) , but we'll see how I feel in the morning. I have a fleeting dream that I wake up to an email from the British Embassy saying my visa is issued and I go to Ballet, saving the evening for celebrating with either Mexican food or Sushi. Ah, dreams.

It's been a tiring couple of weeks. I've worked 13 of the last 14 days, and after tomorrow I'll probably do another 6 or 7 straight. I like my co-workers a lot fortunately, and many of the customers make me enjoy my job. But, it's tiring, dirty work. I want to go to Graduate School, not shake Martinis. (Unless they're for me, of course) Hopefully, the visa Gods will smile at me tomorrow.