A hot and crazy summer

You know when life is just crazy, and there is so much going on that you want a vacation just so you don't have anyplace else to go? Yeah, that's me! This summer has been hot and heavy, with my weekends just as scheduled as my workdays. Last weekend my parents stopped by on their way to France, so Saturday evening the Irishman and I snuck in a quick date by going to ClerkFeast - an open air urban picnic that was part of the London Festival of Architecture. Held in an old, unused gas station, it was a big buffet of lovely food donated by restaurants like Hix Oysters, The Modern Pantry, and St John's. We drank English wine from Chapel Down, which was a revelation it was so good, and sat on blanket on the carport and watched the sun go down. It was magical.



And a good thing too because I then spent all day Sunday with my parents. Somehow I got a severe sunburn after sitting in my garden for all of an hour, which was unpleasant, but I was actually okay with it because it meant that I'm not dreaming the amazing summer we're having here. After a nice roast at The Albion, we went up on the London Eye, which I've never done and am pleased I did but I think once was enough for me. I had a bit of vertigo at the tippy top and every time the Irishman and my dad leaned over to look at something I got a bit freaked out. Amazing views though.



My parents left for France on Wednesday, so after meeting them on Monday and Tuesday nights I was happy to return to my yoga class. I haven't actually stretched like that in so long and I left on my bike resolving to renew my personal vow of making my Wednesday yoga class a priority. Speaking of bikes, I've been riding my new steed for a few weeks now. Meet Diana Ross!



Diana Ross was my friend Rose's bike. When she left London about two months ago to return to New Zealand, I took custody of her and have been getting to know her and her quirks. She is a true ladies bike, with a very low cross bar, so I don't have to throw my leg over the back and embarrass myself in a skirt. She only has 3 speeds - flat, little hill, big hill - and basically she's just really cute! I'm enjoying riding her around town.

I'm sitting here writing all of this with a lovely skinned knee and the remnants of hangover, thanks to this year's 2nd annual 4th of July kickball game (held a week late due to scheduling difficulties). It was violent match, much like the World Cup Final I've just been watching, and yet again the Colonies were creamed by the Commonwealth. I just don't get it. Anyway, I have to go get some first aid cream so I don't have yet another scar. At least the World Cup is over - I can't take this much sport. Especially when I lose!

End scene

Well, it's over - for me at least. I'm referring to the World Cup. In one weekend, all of the flags on my floor at work have been taken down: the US by Ghana, England by Germany (ouch), and Mexico by Argentina. After The Fat Duck on Saturday, we motored home to change and then ran over to my favorite pub, The Drapers Arms, to watch the US v Ghana. I was really excited, having only had the chance to watch the second half of the US's last Group game which ended in a thrilling 91s goal to push them into the next round. But Ghana was good, and the last African team in the tournament, and by the half it was clear they were the better team. Our World Cup run ended, and I was sad to see it go. Clearly, the defeat called for The Irishman and I to continue drinking into the wee hours and suffer just as much as the team (only from a hangover).

Sunday was the England v Germany game, my next team to support, and frankly it wasn't worth writing about. Having lived here for two years, and knowing the ins and outs of Rooney, Gerrard, and Terry's lives and exploits, I expected a bit more from the lads. All of the English I know are taking the defeat in stride, saying things like at least the disappointment came early rather than late. At any case, now I have to suffer through a month of newspaper and blog sites reviewing and critically analyzing the England match, what went wrong, whether Capello is the right coach, ETC...

Then of course Argentina whupped Mexico but good, and I am sort of in love with Diego Maradona - he's such an amusing character; the only thing bigger than his personality is the cross he wears around his neck. So I might have to support Argentina for the rest of the tournament, in addition to The Netherlands due to my love of the Dutch and my good friend Rietje. But when you choose teams to follow, it's never quite as good as when your home team really does good. Next time, USA. xx

World Cup Fever

I've surfaced from a week of absolute insanity at work (my timesheet recorded 71 hours of work since last Sunday... and a standard work week is 37.5... ouch!) to quelle excitement! The World Cup has begun - my office looks like the a mini version of the United Nations, as colleagues hang their home country flags above their desks!

I sort of love the World Cup. As an American, I hadn't really known about it until my summer abroad in Italy when the entire country shut down for every Italian match. That was 2002, when the US beat Germany unexpectedly to advance to the quarter finals. In 2006, my Dutch friend and I slipped out of the office to watch the Netherlands games in NYC dive bars at odd hours - like 10am - and this year I've downloaded a World Cup app for my iPhone and I will be watching all of the American matches proudly.

I watched Uruguay v France in the pub last night, and I am gearing up for the big mama of games - England v USA at 19:30 GMT tonight. It will be the game to end all games, setting the tone for the rest of the tournament if we can beat England at their favourite sport. Apparently we did it the last time we met 60 years ago. I'll be wearing my Michelle Obama earrings for extra good luck!

It's that time of year again...

when I lose the Irishman every weekend for two months to international rugby. Last year Ireland won the 6 Nations tournament with a Grand Slam, beating all each of the other 5 countries (England, Scotland, Wales, France, and Italy), and are gunning to defend their title. The Irishman is pumped for this year's competition, so much so that when I was courted with a romantical suggestion of going to Paris for Valentine's Day for the second year in row I knew there was an ulterior motive: of course Ireland is playing France in Paris on 13 February. The Irishman thought it would be wonderful to spend the weekend in the City of Lights/Love, with an entire day devoted to watching gigantic men in tight shorts jump on top of one another. Actually, as long as #15 Rob Kearney is playing for Ireland, I'm FINE with watching a rugby game, but I had to reject his sentimental offer. He got his wish in the end, though, as friends from the US Kat and DK are going to be here next week, and we're all going to head across the channel for the weekend so the boys can go to the rugby and the girls can go to Chanel. Sounds fair, no?

To be completely honest, I do enjoy watching a rugby game in the pub with the Irishman and his mates, but I get really really nervous. I've come to adopt the Irish team as my own, and I get really upset if they fall behind or miss big plays. Now that they are defending their title, I couldn't actually watch their first game yesterday vs Italy. Even though it was an easy game, and the won handily, the thought of sitting through a heartwrenching loss is too much for me. So I watched the pregame show with the Irishman, and then went shopping. It looks like that's going to be the status quo for my weekends for the foreseeable future.

The Hand of God - I mean, Henry

Oh man. The World Cup isn't until next year, but the qualifiers have begun and already there is a huge controversy. Last night Ireland played France for a spot in the tournament, their second qualifier game, and lost in what everyone is called cheating. Thierry Henry used his hands twice to keep the ball in play and get France a decisive goal, winning them a trip to the World Cup. Henry admits to using his hand, and blamed the ref for not spotting the penalty, and Ireland's pride is wounded. Obviously I am hearing a lot about this due to the Irishman's rightful outrage, and I can't say I blame him. When I moved here, my friend Miguel gave me a short lesson in Premiership football and I learned all about the original Hand of God; these types of legends create rivalries that are handed down through the generations. To have a country like Ireland, small, underdog, with immense heart, kicked out of the run up to the World Cup by an arrogant powerhouse like France is a big deal. This will get bigger and bigger, and I can guarantee you that coverage of the World Cup next year in South Africa will refer to constantly. France may have gotten to the party, but if it wins it will be infamously.

HOLLA(nd)

Like I mentioned before in this space, there is always The Football going on in England; whether it's in the form of the regular league play, championship league, finals, or European games, there is nearly NEVER a time when there isn't some sort of professional football being played.

Currently, everyone is getting all fired up about the Euro Cup. This year's Euro Cup was controversial before it even started because England did not qualify, and the major players all went home to play for their home teams while England had to make do with "friendly" matches against fellow losers like Team USA.

I actually like the Euro Cup. I think it's more fun to watch countries play against one another and to see people get all worked up about their nation, as opposed to a club team. Just because England isn't playing doesn't mean the Brits aren't watching the action; in fact, I think they're more into it because they can trash talk more since they have no skin in the game.

I myself have torn allegiances; being a life-long Francophile, I naturally want to support Le Bleu. But working for a Dutch company, and learning so much about them and their culture from both my clients, makes me also side with the Orange. Plus, Rietje, my friend from college, is Dutch, and during the last World Cup she and I ducked out of work to watch the second halves of the Dutch games during the semi-finals. I even made us orange t-shirts that said HOLLA(nd) to wear so we could show Dutch pride. I'm currently a little sad that I gave mine to Rietje for her younger sister to wear; I would TOTALLY rock it at the pub!

What it comes down to, I guess, is the fact that the French are playing horribly thus far in the tournament, and the Dutch have come from out of nowhere to play amazingly and win their first two games in major upsets. I watched one of those games on Friday, against France, and it was unbelievably exciting. So I guess from here on out, I have to put down my wanna-be Gallic pride and side with Orange because they are currently the team to beat!