The DIY Begins

This was my bedroom last Sunday. That's my lovely new bed and amazing mattress, covered in plastic sheeting to protect it as we repainted the bedroom.

We've well and truly moved into our house, and have been in for nearly four weeks. But our quick turn-around move meant that we didn't actually have the luxury of doing things when we first got into the house that we originally wanted to do, like paint the entire house a base coat of white, get it professionally cleaned, etc. Only now are we really getting into the depths of making it our own.

While my friend was visiting last week, The Irishman had time to start prepping the bedroom for painting and we managed to get most of it done last Sunday. This week, he has a week of holiday before he starts a new job and his brother is over from Dublin to help him tackle the rest of the house. Though the entire place smells of paint fumes, already it looks brighter, cleaner, and more of a blank slate for us to make our own.

Hopefully by this weekend the guys will have most of the house done, save for the bathroom (already a lovely Farrow & Ball shade of blue), the loft (which was very recently painted and doesn't need any work), and the kitchen (which is such a disaster that we're toying with just leaving it until we're ready to rip it apart and replace it). 

After the initial white-wash, I plan on tackling the bedroom as the first room we decorate. I'm starting to build pinboards on Pinterest of colours, textures, textiles, and furniture, and we're excited to design  a restful and calm space we both enjoy.

Our House

So, we are in our new house.

There's really not much to say about it; I mean, there is so much that I can't write one summary blog post about it, but at the same time, it's so new that I'm still discovering lots of things about it each day. It's like getting a puppy, or having a child, I suppose, in that I need to learn about its quirks and habits and get to know its rhythms.

In the meantime, while I'm getting to know my house, here are some photos so you can see it too.

The front

The hallway, from the living room looking out the front door

The kitchen, looking out to the back patio

The lounge and back patio

The hallway on the upper floor, looking in the bathroom

The master bedroom (with a big closet!)

We are no where near being unpacked. I managed to clean the bathroom and half the kitchen, while The Irishman put together the guest bed in the spare room so we could sleep there while we wait for our new bed and mattress to arrive (delivery date TBD!). Because we moved so quickly, we had tons of plans in place with friends and tickets to events meaning that we have been out every night this week. I desperately just want to go home and clean some drawers and vacuum everything.

And once that is done, the DIY will start... we spent £150 at B&Q on Sunday on who knows what – paint, wall filler, sandpaper, dropcloths, rollers... we're painting the whole place white to begin with so it's fresh and clean for now, and then slowly decorating. My main priority though is to buy garden furniture so we can enjoy the patio for the last few weeks/months of warm weather. The Irishman ordered a BBQ that arrives Tuesday, so surely we need to sit outside to eat our burgers. And drink our rosé!

From exchange to completion to moving in 10 days

I almost titled this entry "shits gettin' real, y'all" but then thought better of it; though it describes how I feel about what's going on in my life, it doesn't really explain the journey we've been on over the last four weeks.

When last you heard about our house, I was giving you the update that we heard bad news regarding the property. At that stage, we had no idea whether we would even go through with the purchase or whether we would have to start back at square one with the house hunt. It was demoralizing, sad, and really really difficult to process. I mean, we had already picked out potential kitchen units for a refurb taking place two years in the future! We were emotionally invested.

So the only way to deal with our disappointment was to stop all home-buying processes in their tracks until the situation was resolved. No packing, no shopping, no plans, nothing. It was coming up to our week in Ireland, and still no word on what was going to happen so we mentally decided to give it until we returned – 31 July – and then start pressuring the seller to make a decision. 

But we finally got word the Friday before our trip that a plan was in place to enable the sale to go through, and we had to make some quick decisions. We had to decide whether we a) still wanted the house, and b) could stick to the originally agreed timetable for completing the sale by Tuesday the 7th. After much discussion, stress, and tears, we went to the lawyer during lunch the day we flew to Ireland (much stress!!!) and signed all of the necessary paperwork for exchange. Then on our return from Ireland, we went to see the house again and agreed the dates of the sale with the seller – exchange last week and completion this Friday the 10th.

So what does all this mean? It means that last week I emptied a few bank accounts, Monday my dad sent me a large sum of money in the form of a loan, yesterday I sent more money than I make in a year to a lawyer, Friday afternoon The Irishman and I will get keys to a house we own together, and Saturday we will move in! 

This process has been so complex and emotional, I can't even begin to explain it fully. I will write some posts soon about the house buying process in England and how we (sort of) survived it, but in the mean time it's all about the packing. It's a good thing, too, because we're running out of spaces for boxes for stuff. Phew! It will all be worth it in the end.

Heat wave, house search, and running scared.

Photo from Flickr courtesy of lakewentworth

The UK is in the midst of a heatwave and London is hardest hit... we got to 30°C yesterday and will max out around 33°C today. That's about 90°F for you guys in the US and this is VERY HOT for English people. Men are wearing shorts in my office and there's already talk of a pre-lunch ice cream run. Personally I love it even though I'm feeling a bit sweaty; this is the way summer should be, and I'm reveling in the 48 hours of sultry breezes. 

Unfortunately, this week kicks off my marathon training, and the one thing I DON'T want to do is go running when it's hot out. Luckily today is a "rest day" according to my coach Hal, and it starts tomorrow morning with an easy 3 miler. Easy except for the fact that I haven't really run since the end of May. Oops. So not only is the looming marathon freaking me out (it's only 18 weeks away!), but the knowledge that I'm starting out my training with a lowered base level of fitness is also making me sort of wish I'd drunk less rosé in June and done more running. But I can't go back and change it now so I have to make the best of it, buckle down, and take my training seriously.

And in and amongst the heat and the running, I'm flat hunting. Not only flat hunting but neighborhood hunting. I will write up a post about Highgate, but since last weekend we're also considering Stoke Newington, Victoria Park Village, De Beauvoir Town (sort of), with some parts of south London still in the offing. It's only been 2 weeks of solid looking and I'm already fed up. There are so many decisions to make, compromises to consider, and the stress in this heat is really taking its toll. I realized yesterday that I've moved every year since moving to the UK, so I need to take this move seriously enough so that it's the right place for us until we buy a place. In other words, this needs to be pretty perfect. 

Somehow I feel like this is going to be a long, hot summer.

The defining dilemma of my life.

Image courtesy of Mshades on Flickr, who also has a photostream of a very cute Pug named Milo!

I know I've been quiet lately, but it's because I'm struggling with the defining dilemma of my life: city vs. country. But before I begin, I'd like to just point out how interesting it is that themes sort of roll through the interwebs; last week BetsyTransatlantically wrote about her country getaway and I have several other friends who have been emailing me about their city/country balance problems. Maybe it's because of the eclipses?

Anyways, last weekend The Irishman and I went to the Wiltshire countryside for our friends' baby's first birthday party. It was my first time as an adult at a child's birthday, and I thoroughly enjoyed it despite my blatantly absent desire for children. This little guy is pretty much the coolest baby around and it was great to celebrate his first year with him and his parents and all of our friends. But I did leave the party with a yearning – a yearning for more outdoor space, better access to nature, more room.

After spending the weekend looking out at rolling vistas from a patio full of flowers, The Irishman and I returned to our small, cramped flat and made a big decision. We are ready to move. Not out of town, but to a further ring of the onion that is London. We want at least two bedrooms and some outdoor space. I dream of a little studio space for making things, and I dream of sitting on a lounger in the sun surrounded by potted geraniums. The Irishman wants a full herb garden, even if it's in pots or hanging, and possibly some little tomato plants. Oh, and we also want to keep saving for a house. So realistically, we need to move farther out, probably to the furthest edges of Zone 2.

It's a big step for me. I've only ever lived in N1, and frankly, I love it. But my desire for more than a room with a bedroom attached and enough money to eat in restaurants and buy shoes is outweighing Angel's many charms and conveniences. I'm looking at this as an adventure, and planning a few Sunday excursions to new areas of town. We're concentrating on small village-y areas that feel like small towns within the larger metropolis. This Sunday is Highgate, and Crouch End, Dulwich, Stoke Newington and possibly Walthamstow aren't far behind. We have the luxury of one month's notice, and no deadline for finding a place, so we can be as picky as we want (which won't be hard).

Any readers out there live in a village in London that they love? Any tips? I'd love to hear your neighborhood suggestions!

Bridges in Japan

Image courtesy of Vanessa Pike-Russell

My good friend Spatch (names withheld to protect the not-so-innocent) recently announced she is leaving our company to move to Japan and teach English for a year. My first reaction when she broke the news was "OMFG THAT'S SO COOL." My second reaction was "I'm so proud of you."

It will come as no surprise that I'm a strong advocate of leaving one's home (town, state, country) to experience another culture through full immersion. When Spatch told me about embarking on the adventure of her life, I went on and on about what a great time she will have and how exciting the next year will be and how she will grow and learn so much. Naturally that led me to think about all of the ways I've grown and changed and matured since moving to London, and I decided to devote a blog post to giving young Spatch some words of wisdom for her journey. Fellow expats, feel free to leave comments on your own experiences and any advice you have and I will of course pass them along to her. She is also starting her own blog, so you can follow her travels with me. (Link is coming!)

To preface the object lessons below, I just want to point out that this is what I've learned over the course of all my travels and personal choices over a lot of years. Many of them are based on the last fifteen months in London, but this isn't the first time I threw myself out of my comfort zone. So this list is actually the working sum of a young lifetime of varied and challenging experiences.

1. Everything you know is not true.

Remember that moment in life when a something made you rethink everything you thought was true and constant? Mine was when I realized the Rolling Stones were good - and my dad had always said they were overrated. My personal frame of reference shifted and I discovered that I could have my own opinions, and they didn't have to be the same as anyone elses. Apply that thought to culture, and it means just because you live in a culture where roasted potatoes belong with meat doesn't mean that other cultures don't think potatoes belong with spinach. Or that potatoes don't belong at all. Or what-have-you. The point is, your frame of reference is shaped by your cultural environment, and a different cultural environment will give another person a completely different "normal". So be open to it, and not judgmental. You might learn something.

2. Try it - you might like it!

This is the corollary to number one. There's no point in putting one's self into a new place, with new customs, and stubbornly refusing to embrace them. You may think something is gross, but to someone else it's a delicacy. Okay, you might not like eel (or think you hate it) but guess what - that's a staple Japanese fish - so try it. Once. You don't have to like it. I guess that's rich coming from me who has yet to step foot into a Cockney eel and pie shop, but I promise if I ever do I'll try it. Promise. You do the same, Spatch.

3. Self-humility never hurt anyone.

Again, linked to the first two, but with more of an understanding of geopolitical history. Those of us in the West have a tendency to examine and ultimately denigrate "others" - non-whites, non-Europeans, non-non-non. But no one culture is superior than another. Approach a new culture, and it's customs, with an understanding of history and an acknowledgment that you have no idea how that history is interpreted by that culture's people. Americans are pretty bad at this; we think we're great while having approximately 300 years of history under our belts, and we assume everyone else shares our self-opinion. Be aware that as a Westerner, people may not think that the Empire was so grand, and be open to the discussion. Again, you might learn something.

4. Don't be ashamed to photograph everything.

A less deep one. Create a visual record of your adventures; you'll treasure it forever. But don't forget to also just look at things without the camera lens. Experience it all before recording it.

5. You are a creating a better version of yourself.

I'm serious about this. The time a person spends outside of his or her home culture truly allows their real self to emerge. It's really scary, but also really fantastic. No one from home is there to judge your behavior or emotions, and you're not limited by cultural mores like you once were, and the end result it a more polished and more insightful human being. Be excited to meet yourself at the end.

6. No one will really understand, and that's okay.

The end is scary to think about, because you're still at the beginning! And the end is probably undefined; who knows what will happen over the course of the next year, who you will meet, what you will do, how your life will change. But throughout the process and at the end, you will struggle to help your friends and family at home understand what you experienced. They will read your blog, see your pictures, and Skype with you, but they'll never truly know what your time abroad was like. That's okay too. Just be prepared for it - for your little perfect secret.

7. You'll keep learning things for a long time to come.

Even after the end, you'll be walking through life and you'll realize that things you did and learned while in Japan continue to reverberate. Things will "click" long after you leave Japan, and you'll make connections that weren't apparent at the time. I think that's one of the really wonderful parts about doing what you're doing; you are storing up wisdom to draw from way into your future. Like a bank!

8. No expectations.

Don't do it. Everything that happens from the moment your plane touches down will be that much sweeter. Besides, you have no idea what to expect anyway. Be open to it all.

9. Keep a journal – it's not nerdy.

Just like #4. You'll look back in a decade and read it and remember everything like it was yesterday. You will also learn more, and understand your adventure more deeply, through the process of writing it down. Your blog will definitely help.

10. Remember where you came from.

Finally, Spatchula, be proud of yourself, your family, your home, your country. Living abroad helped me rediscover the wonder of America, and I trust that living in Japan will do the same for you and Britain. You'll appreciate where you came from that much more for having left it.

It's worth pointing out that Spatch is going to a country and immersing herself in a culture that is completely different than anything I've ever had the pleasure to encounter; so while my reflections will invariably resonate with her, she will come away from her adventure with her own nuanced view on what I've shared. I look forward to visiting her in Japan next year and getting her take on it all over some green tea and sake. Adiosu, Spatch!

Universal Brand Experience: IKEA

A lot of what my job is about is standardization - ensuring that a customer's experience is as close to identical (and positive) each and every time the customer encounters the brand. One of the best examples of this consistency is IKEA.

IKEA is global; there are stores all over the world, from the US to the Ukraine to the UAE. And I'll bet that in every single IKEA, there are screaming children, people who flit zig-zag across the aisle from display to display with no rhyme or reason, arguing couples, angry employees, and general mayhem. That was my experience every time I went to the IKEA on Columbus Blvd in Philadelphia, and that was pretty much my experience when I went to IKEA in Edmonton, North London, last Saturday. Of course, the fact that I went to IKEA with the WORST HANGOVER OF MY LIFE didn't exactly help matters.

Two hours and £275 later, I was in a cab with all of my Swedish modular furniture, housewares, rugs, and lamps on the way home. Once I got there, I realized the second part of the universal IKEA brand experience: you may escape the store unscathed, but you still have to put everything together once you get it all home.

FINALLY!

I have returned to my former status as a fully-functioning, rent-paying, tax-paying, independent adult. This morning, a hired car picked up me, my three suitcases, and my £400 of luxury organic bedding, and transported us to my new flat. I think I permanently rearranged several vertebrae in my back lugging my HEAVY large suitcase up three flights of stairs, but I got it all up there and deposited in my room. I even took 10 minutes to rearrange the furniture in my room to my liking, and I think it's going to be grand. I can't wait to get out of here and go home and unpack for the LAST TIME.

Le sigh. I've never been so happy to move in my entire life.

The final countdown to luxury bedded bliss

It is officially 1 week until I move into my new apartment. I cannot WAIT! I don't think I've ever anticipated the passing of 7 days so strongly before.

In preparation for moving, I've started acquiring household goods and necessities. Obviously "necessities" means "needs" and maybe I didn't really NEED the tea towel (dish towel) that has the words "I had a very nice dream about Daniel Craig" printed on it, but surely it will make my new flat a home. But really, the one gross expenditure was on luxury organic cotton bedding.

Let me preface this by saying that for the past eight years, I've been sleeping on the same three sets of sheets and using the same four towels in rotation. Even my mother, the thriftiest of homemakers, questioned the absorbency of said towels and my father noticed that all of them were unraveling at the edges. The sheets were a combination of sale items and a set that my mother bought in 1975 designed by Princess Grace of Monaco. BEFORE she died.

These facts, coupled with the very harsh reality living in the outskirts of town for the last six weeks, led me to justify spending the most exorbitant sum of money that I have EVER spent on myself, on bedding. Don't think I didn't consider other options; I went to the posh linens store and touched all the samples, then walked down to Oxford Street and went to John Lewis and Debenhams, the nicer department stores, and fondled their linens. There was no contest. Once you know what camembert tastes like, why would you eat string cheese?

It physically HURT to hand over my credit card to the shop girl. I was NAUSEOUS while signing my name on the slip. But back in the office on Monday, I submitted my expenses and it all went away, replaced with the anticipation of getting into the nicest bed ever on the evening of 18 June. Sigh.

Easy come, easy go

We've seen the most beautiful apartment in the world, in the most perfect location… and then lost the most beautiful apartment in the world, in the most perfect location. Stupid Brits and their stupid rules. Stupid stupid!

Why globalization is a big crock and isn't helping me move to the UK.

Those of you who knew me when I was still a fiery, idealistic, anti-corporate-monopolast in college might remember a design project I made where I turned a Monopoly game into a scathing critique of global hegemony. The point of the game was to play as one of a dozen developing countries seeking aid from multinational organizations like the IMF, World Bank, etc, in the hopes of building infrastructure and economic growth - the kicker was, you couldn't win. Instead of bankrupt and tax cards, players were socked with fees, restrictive relationships, and other hazards that basically put them further in debt. Obviously no one actually PLAYED this game; it was meant to be a conversation piece to illustrate the horrors of the geo-economic hegemony that industrialized nations hold over the developing world.

Since then (my junior year), my viewpoints have moderated and I realize there are centuries of complexities influencing the rise global corporations and the continuing struggle of still-developing countries. However, every so often I encounter something so stupid that I find myself as indignant at the travesty of today's world as I was back in 2002. These days, it is the sham of the so-called "connected world" enabled by global corporations.

Specifically, there are two companies that I deal with for important services that I chose precisely for their presence in multiple countries around the world. One is Citibank, the other is TMobile. I chose them over their competitors because I knew that one day I'd succeed in living and working abroad, and in the meantime as I travel about I could use my services without extra fees or hassle. You would think this was a good plan, right? Well, you'd be wrong.

Citibank apparently has services for ex-pats - their website says so. But I can't find out about them. When I went into a branch in New York to inquire further, the staff had no idea those services exist and they told me to call the number on the back of my card. I tried calling the UK number but no one answered; I left a message and they never called me back. I have so many issues with this situation that its hard to articulate them at all logically without ranting, but one is customer service. I am a customer. I want to keep doing business with this bank. Their representatives do NOT want to help me. Just because I don't have a gazillion dollars on deposit with them doesn't mean I don't deserve good service, assistance with this move, advice about financial services. That's what I pay for by banking with them. But even though Citibank has offices all over the world and throughout the UK, they are not linked and they are not in touch with each other enough to provide seamless service for me. As a service company, they are not providing ME, the most important part of the equation (the customer) with good service, and therefore they are not selling a good product.

TMobile is similar. Even though TMobile is owned by Deutsche Telekom and has presence and service all over Europe, each country is run separately through its own silo. Therefore, even though I've used TMobile for FIVE YEARS in the US, I have to say goodbye to my lovely 646 mobile number and my sweet rate plan and go into a UK mobile shop and start a whole new account. Like I have built no history with this company.

I think that might be the worst aspect of this "fake" globalized world. The promise of a seamlessly integrated product or service across boundaries and borders is not actually true. It may be, if you're willing to pay a premium for it. The promise of individualized, customized products for every person, allowing true self-expression around the world, is also not true – we're all still numbers, and numbers are easily forgotten.

The bottom line is, multi-national companies, I thank you for making an effort (I'm not sure if it's sincere) in creating service products that help people in an increasingly connected world. But don't make promises you can't keep - because I WILL find you out, and I WILL have a temper tantrum.