happy halloween!

one holiday i really do miss living here is halloween. little kids going for their first trick-or-treat, houses and shops all decorated to the nines. jack-o-lanterns and themed candy, costume parties and scary movies.

some of my best memories are of halloween. as a kid i always dressed as a gypsy (easy enough with my mum’s 60’s hippie skirts, hair scarves and hoop earrings), and my sister was always a fairy princess (she always ordered rainbow sherbet ice cream as wel, but that’s another story). my dad was one of those parents who never outgrew trick-or-treating and i think he as truly sad when we all got too old for it. his specialty was creating the most horrifyingly realistic costumes and scaring the bejeezus out of the neighbourhood kids. amputations done with butcher’s soup bones, real knives through the head, iron spikes through the chest – the grislier the better. it was always too cold on halloween night to go out without a jacket, so we’d walk around with our costumes peeking out from under our puffy coats, lamenting the ruined effect.

and of course, there was the candy. for a sugar freak like me, halloween is the raison d’etreof holidays. chuckles jellies, m&ms, mike n’ ikes, candy corn, nik’l nips, reeses cups, ju ju bees, sugar babies, dots, junior mints, twizzlers, swee’tarts, lik’em ade, spree, caramels, atomic fireballs, almond joys. i loved them all. we’d get home and dump out our booty to categorise – then let the trading begin. and of course, being a true sweets fiend, i stole liberally from my brother and sister – particularly kate who always “saved” her candy well into the christmas season.

as an adult, halloween was all about the costume parties – who had the best/most inventive/most ironic/most ghoulish costume. i was never very creative, but my ex husband would spend weeks thinking up ideas for his outfit. and our circle of friends always threw all-night halloween raves with funky punches and d.j.s which ended in the wee hours on the roof before taking the subway home in the dawning light with all the other bedraggled and drunk costumed partiers.

and if, for some reason you didn’t have a party to go to, there was always the raft of b-grade horror films at the cinema. my friend johanna dragged me to more ridiculous “scary” movies than i care to remember. “the blair witch project :2″ was her fault, as was “the ring:2″ and other cinematic travesties which i have blocked from memory.

but no matter how you spent it, halloween was a big deal. overly commercial? sure. cheesy and tasteless? absolutely. but a holiday dedicated to the pure joy of being childish and goofy, the sugar highs of overindulging, and the fun of scaring yourself just for the adrenaline rush and euphoria that comes after.

the brits have halloween in theory – but they really haven’t got the concept down properly. it’s just not very british to engage in lighthearted foolishness just for its own sake. it’s not very british to enjoy fake-spookiness and funny-scariness. so there’s no decoratons, no greeting cards, barely any trick-or-treating or “fancy dress” costumes. looking out the front door, you’d never even realise it was a holiday.

and i miss it.

happy samhain! Happy all hallow’s eve! may “the great pumpkin” be good to you

(if you want to read a bit about halloween in britain, try here and here. “If it weren’t for all the American ex-pats flooding into his country, Hallowe’en would still be the meaningless event it was when I was kid.” and “But much as some Britons are angry at being co-opted in yet another realm by the consumerist culture of the United States, some Americans living in Britain are annoyed at Britons’ failure to grasp correct Halloween protocol” – interesting reading)

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halloween, samhain, trick-or-treat, britain, usa, all hallow's eve

she took her sweet time doing it, but piper finally walks!

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just because it will make you feel good.

read more here and here .

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youtube, video, free hugs, juan mann

somehow when i thought about coming back to london, i imagined that certain things would be fun – cooking nice fresh healthy meals (nothing like not being able to eat salad to make you appreciate vegetables), re-exploring the city, and flat hunting.

boy was i wrong on that last count.

i haven’t actually gone flat-hunting or picked my own place to live since i moved from nyc to boston about 8 years ago. back then, i remember walking into what would become our apartment and falling instantly in love. it had lots of room, lots of wood, lots of storage, lots of light. it had a porch and a yard and a dishwasher and a cellar. but what really snagged my heart was the pantry – i could picture myself putting groceries away in the pantry and looking out on my garden. and that’s how i knew it was “the one”.

so i was there for almost 4 years and when i finally left, i was heartbroken, but convinced that my move to london would bring brighter things.

moving to london, i ended up in my first place basically by default. since i didn’t know anyone in the city and had no place to stay, when this woman angela agree to rent me a room sight unseen 3 days before my flight, i jumped at it. luckily it all worked out rather well – angela was lovely, the room and flat were cute, and i ended up staying for a year.

the reason for my second move in london came when i fell in love with jonno and he asked me to move in 3 weeks after we met. he lived in a peculiar location (above a car dealership) but it was a great flat – huge, neat, clean, and dirt cheap. it had a giant kitchen, two bathrooms, two balconies, and best friends for next-door neighbours. we had a lot of good times in that flat – impromtpu summer barbeques, big thanksgiving dinners, communal christmasses. it held a place in my heart because it was the first place in the u.k. where i had family. we were there for a couple of years and when we had to relinquish it to leave for our trip, i was gutted.

but neither of these apartments were places that i chose. and while they were places that i grew to love, they weren’t “my” places.

so upon returning a few weeks ago, one of the few things i looked forward to was choosing a new home. someplace that reflected me, in an area i wanted to live in, with things i chose.

the problem with that of course, is that i am not living by myself. there is another opinion for consideration. so where i wanted a nice central location even if it meant a smaller apartment, jonno wanted a bigger space even if it meant living a bit further out. where i was willing to live without furniture until we could buy our own, jonno wanted to find someplace furnished. where i was happy enough to have a view of the city, jonno wanted a garden. disputes and discouragement soon got the better of us. and in the end, we decided to plump for the first place we saw. i think i probably liked it better than he did, but we were both too worn down to continue the search. we came to the realisation that we were never going to find someplace amazingly wonderful with our budget and time constraints. so we agreed to the only place we both liked. hardly love at first sight.

only to then run into a series of snags, the result of being out of the country for 6 months and me being unemployed. this is all way too much anxiety for me. all the calls back and forth trying to explain our current circumstances, track down references, find our old landlord… it’s all putting knots in my stomach, stressing me out. if all works out, we will have the flat on wednesday. if there are further obstacles… well, i don’t want to think about that. this is definitely no fun.

i just want someplace to call home. i’m hoping this flat will be it. and it will be mine because i chose it. maybe it won’t be a flat that i fell in love with. but i have a boy who loves me – and i will grow to love it because he is there. i can picture that now – see us curled up on the sofa drinking coffee and looking out over london. he is the one that snagged my heart.

and that’s home.

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If you’ve not received your absentee ballot and wish to vote in the 7 November election, please follow this link:

http://www.votefromabroad.org/?adid=EDAD9990000102501

This wizard will guide you through the voter registration and absentee ballot request process for your state. It will only ask those questions you are required to answer for your voting state and personal circumstances. It will then automatically fill in the official form, fax coversheet, and voter Declaration/Affirmation for the Federal Write-In Absentee Ballot (FWAB). The FWAB is a back-up ballot. If you have not received your ballot, answer the six screens of quetions and download, print, vote and mail the Federal Write-In Absentee Ballot.

vote, dammit!! exercise your rights!!

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ex-pat, vote, election, abroad, absentee voting

woo hoo! maybe there’s hope for the u.s. yet…

again, many congrats to the brave people fighting for equality everywhere. and many thanks to the brave judges who speak truth where they see it.

recognising love in all its forms can only make our society stronger.

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marriage, gay, homosexual, law, new jersey, civil unions, civil rights

he’s got 4 job offers on the table. that’s *my* man.

now we can start flat hunting in earnest. we’re going to see a few places that look quite promising… fingers crossed!

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pay attention folks: this is the most chilling thing i’ve heard a politician say (and considering our president, that’s saying something)

i usually try to forget that i voluntarily live in a country where everyone is considered guilty until proven innocent – because that’s really the rationale behind so much of the u.k.’s law enforcement. cctv cameras exists because the average citizen on the street *might* commit a crime. speed cameras are there because you *probably* will commit some traffic infraction. t.v. licensing enforcement officers come to your doorstep because you *probably* own a television.

and already they take and keep your dna sample even if you’re falsely arrested. if the police apprehend the wrong person, or you are falsely accused you are still a likely suspect for the rest of your life and no longer allowed even the privacy of your most basic cellular information. you may not know if you have the breast cancer gene, or if you’ll go bald at 40 because your mother has passed along that trait – but the police do.

but even this egregious infringement of the most basic right to privacy over one’s body pales in comparison to the evil proposition mr. blair has put forth. which is, in a nutshell: let’s treat everyone like a criminal. every innocent grandmother, every newborn baby, every good samaritan… let’s do away with even the most tacit notion of innocence, and treat them all like potential murderers.

that’s not the scariest bit.

the scariest bit is that if they were suggesting keeping a database of sphincter photos as a potential means of using “technological advances to reopen thousands of unresolved ‘cold cases’”, i have absolutely no doubt that most of britain would be lining up to spread their cheeks for the camera.

the scariest bit is that “The UK has the largest database in the world and is drawing attention from countries throughout Europe keen to learn from its experience”.

mr. blair you will not get so much as a single eyelash from me. i will move as far away as humanly possible before i give you a cheek swab.

and in case i left any doubt as to my opinion on you and your stinkin’ database… well you can kiss my *other* big fat white cheeks.

(edited to add j’s response: grabs his crotch and says “i got ya dna sample right here”. now i ask you, how charming is my husband?)

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dna, crime, database, dna database, tony blair, law enforcement, civil rights

a quick shout out to nicole in london, who, it turns out, is as nice and funny and smart in person as she is in her writing. it’s always strange meeting someone in real life who you only “know” via the internet but she’s definitely cool peeps – if you overlook her tragic brainwashing as a yankees fan

(I’ll have to beat that out of her next time we get together, don’t you worry…)

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a sad sign of the times – handwriting has been phased out schools. (or you can listen here)

i’m a sentimental fool and always have been. as a kid i went annually to sleep-away camp in the catskill mountains of upstate new york. at the end of the summer there were always tearful heartfelt goodbyes with girlfriends and solemn promises to keep in touch. long distance calls were too expensive in those days, so we wrote letters. long earnest letters reminiscing about boys we’d been secretly in love with, or stuck-up popular girls whom we were equal parts resentful and jealous of, or the kind of cheesy fun you can only have at camp where everyone else is acting just as goofy. these were letters written on carefully selected stationery – something not too childish (like puppies or dolls) but still playful and pretty, like butterflies or flowers. some had special pens with purple ink and dotted their”i”s with hearts or smilies. and found next to the signature was always a code of some type – the popular “b.f.f.” (best friends forever) or more individual “i.l.d.a.a.f.” (i love danny always and forever) or generic “s.w.a.k.” (sealed with a kiss). getting a letter was special, but writing a letter was an indicator of loyalty. you never make friends like those you make at camp, and those letters tell the story of the kind of pure friendship that doesn’t exist amongst adults.

as i got older, handwriting became a hallmark of maturity. neat essays and even script signified a serious scholastic effort and were rewarded by teachers. high school girls vied amongst themselves for the unofficial title of “best handwriting”, unabashedly seeking compliments by putting their own penmanship down. some slyly emulated others. boys avoided using cursive at all costs, afraid of seeming too feminine if they cared about careful script. block printing was far more manly. and so my first love letter from a boy was written in tiny hand, all capitals, taking pains to look just the tiniest bit slapdash – but he hinted at his true feelings by using the special blue paper i’d given him as a gift. it was 6 pages, front and back, and it came mailed with a mix tape. on the last page he used the “l” word for the first time. i smelled that letter and traced the words with my finger. i wore that letter out until we broke up only a few months later. but i still have it.

and when we embarked on our trip, i brought along a large notebook. over hours and miles of endless bus journeys i wrote about my experiences and thoughts in bumpy fashion. i crossed out and contemplated, my mind racing faster than my fingers as i mentally edited and re-wrote. some of my best journal entries were the result of several re-readings, and it was only when we at last arrived at an internet cafe and i typed them up for permanent publishing that they got final approval. there is something about the act of putting pen to paper which inspires creativity in a way no keyboard can. it is the thread which ties together my girlhood and adolescence – the kid who carefully wrote back to every cabin-mate on the camp mailing list so she would have friends the following summer, the one who wrote passionately to her teen boyfriend hoping he missed her, the one who traded freshman tales of woe with friends at far-flung colleges. my handwriting documented all of these, and it has matured and changed as i have. it reflects my personality – unique, a little messy, a lot exuberant. it looks similar to my dad’s handwriting and is carefully practiced to get the most my long name on a short signature line. i still write in a paper diary and send cards in the mail. i still like getting the increasingly rare letter.

and so i am saddened that children no longer learn handwriting. it makes me sad to know i will likely never get to see my niece piper dot her “i”s with little bubbles or hearts. it makes me feel old to think that i have lived to see letter writing pass into extinction. i don’t know why this one change brings out such nostalgia but it does. some essential connection has been lost.

i still save text phone messages and emails… but it’s not the same.

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i no longer have to fear for my life everytime we get on a bus. given the two horrible accidents we witnessed and yesterday’s recent tragedy, my fears were hardly unfounded. it tied my stomach in knots of anxiety every single time.

but what galls me is that shitloads of tourists pay crazy money to bike down “the world’s most dangerous road” (with over 100 fatalities a year). we originally intended to do it as well – it was only because we were shaken up from the accident only days before that we decided not to. yet none of that money pouring in goes toward improving the road safety. probably because they’d lose the tourism dollars.

one life lost every three days is far too high a price to pay.

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bolivia, accident, road safety

I’ve been “tagged” by the lovely Anglofille. While I usually don’t do memes, this one is interesting in a very sociological kinda way, so what the hell…

Do you like the look and the content of your blog?

yeah. though i would love my blog to look “cleaner” and neater and more professional, it’s all my design so it gives me something to play around with. as for content, i think i have a decent balance of the personal and political. mostly i write about whatever strikes my fancy. if that strikes other people’s fancy as well, then so much the better.

Does your family know about your blog?

yep, though they rarely check in. i think they find it a strange and nerdy hobby.

Can you tell your friends about your blog? Do you consider it a private thing?

my friends all know about it. i have a private journal-style blog for the really private stuff. because google is evil.

Do you just read the blogs of those who comment on your blog? Or do you try to discover new blogs?

i read all sorts of stuff – you never know when you’ll stumble across something interesting. i make an effort to read those who comment on mine, and i think like minds tend to gravitate toward like.

Does your blog positively affect your mind? Give an example.

well it forces me to stay informed and examine my reasoning and opinions, so i consider that a good thing.

What does the number of visitors to your blog mean? Do you use a traffic counter?

i have a statcounter, and i’d be lying if i said it didn’t give me a little thrill to see more people reading it. but in the grand scheme of things, if you keep a blog only for an audience you’re bound to be disappointed.

Do you imagine what other bloggers look like?

occasionally.

Do you think blogging has any real benefit?

i think blogs are beneficial in fostering the open flow of information – that can only be a good thing.

Do you think that the blogsphere is a stand alone community separated from the real world?

I think the blogosphere *is* the real world – just in a different format. but it is definitely a distinct community unto itself.

Do some political blogs scare you? Do you avoid them?

nah – everyone’s entitled to their opinion. of course, that doesn’t mean i have to waste my time reading those opinions i think are stupid or ill-informed angry rhetoric.

Do you think that criticizing your blog is useful?

i suppose it can’t hurt. i’m always open to suggestion.

Have you ever thought about what would happen to your blog if you died?

Nope.

Which blogger had the greatest impression on you?

catherine’s pita was the blog which inspired me to start my own, and dooce is my idol (isn’t she everybody’s?) but blogher makes me feel like i’m part of a movement.

Which blogger do you think is the most similar to you?
prolly nicole in london, just because we’re both american expats living in south london. thevolabroad too,but she’s a southerner

Name a song you want to listen to?

hmmm – well right now weezer’s “say it ain’t so” is going through my brain, so maybe i’ll go give it a whirl on the ol’ mp3 player…

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went to go see my plane-flying, motorcycle-riding, computer-geeking friend andy’s band “she hit me first” play last night, their first show since we’ve been back. and (in spite of what he would modestly admit) they rocked the house. think i’m biased? check out their music here and here. they’re good – damn good. load up the ipod and rock out.

and they’re playing in london next thursday! if you’re in the london area and enjoy a good dose of alt-post-punk-guitar-rock, you shouldn’t miss your chance to see them before they become big superstars. trust me, you’ll be glad you did.

the gig:

26th Oct 2006 22:30
She Hit Me First £5
Up All Night @ The Miller – 96 Snowsfields Rd, London, SE1 3SS (near London Bridge)

would i steer you wrong?

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four days and it still feels kinda like christmas – discovering clothes i’d forgotten i owned (including, miracle of miracles, underwear which is *not* one of the 8 black pairs i’ve been wearing for 6 months straight!), friends cooking us lovely dinners, emails saying “welcome home”, and blissfully reloading the ipod with all my faves.

i know this is all too good too last. like the tan, it will fade. is already fading.

what is starting to creep in already is that “edge” to daily life in a big city. the permanent undercurrent of tension through the shoulders. the tinge of cynicism that pervades thought. the weight of annoyance with inept transportation, shrill television, and overpriced goods. i’ve had minimal contact with the “outside world” thus far, but even this limited interaction has caused my forehead to wrinkle again, my mouth to set in a pressed line.

after living without this cloud for six months, it’s disheartening to be aware of this damper pressing down on my spirit.

it’s not that there are no annoyances or irritations when travelling. but this is a different kind of mindset – a subtle hardening of the arteries which seems to be necessary to urban living. it is so omnipresent that it’s only noticable by its absence. a toughening of the skin that protects, but also numbs feeling.

i wish i could leave this shell behind, but i know i’d never survive long without it. it’s just been so nice to feel truly free for all this time. and that’s probably what i will miss most.

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you don’t like the laws on civil rights preventing torture or the way the justice system works? apparently it’s a simple matter to change them to suit your agenda – if you’re president bush and don’t mind the pesky matter of the geneva convention, american constitution, or, y’know, a moral conscience.

The law bans US agents from inflicting severe physical or mental pain and using torture during interrogations. But it gives the White House wide latitude to define what constitutes torture and “cruel treatment” under the Geneva Conventions, and it effectively grants legal amnesty to White House officials who authorized harsh techniques in the past to protect CIA agents who have reportedly used mock drownings, sleep deprivation, and hypothermia during interrogations …

Critics of the new law, however, contend that it denies justice for detainees because it cuts off access to federal courts. The vast majority of the 450 detainees in Guantanamo, critics say, are not accused of terrorist acts and are unlikely to ever stand trial, and their only recourse had been to file petitions in federal court challenging their detentions.

The new law now blocks the court from hearing those petitions. Yesterday, the Department of Justice immediately sent a letter to a US appeals court in Washington announcing that the Guantanamo detainees no longer have access to the court.

Senator Feingold put a fine point on it:

“The legislation signed by the President today violates basic principles and values of our constitutional system of government. It allows the government to seize individuals on American soil and detain them indefinitely with no opportunity to challenge their detention in court. And the new law would permit an individual to be convicted on the basis of coerced testimony and even allow someone convicted under these rules to be put to death.

The checks and balances of our system of government and the fundamental fairness of the American people and legal system are among our greatest strengths in the fight against terrorism. I am deeply disappointed that Congress enacted this law. We will look back on this day as a stain on our nation’s history.”

I think this is as gross a violation of civil rights as executive order 9066. that would be the one that “interred” (read: imprisoned) 120,000 americans without cause or recourse. it took 50 years for the government to apologise for that one.

i would have hoped we’d learned more from that shameful mistake – because the way to protect and uphold our rights as a country should never, ever come through depriving other people of theirs.

we’re supposed to be better than that.

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bush, torture, guantanamo, , military commissions act

oh my life. sitting here noodling on the computer whilst the news is on in the background and mr. blair is blathering on, when suddenly my ears perk up and i hear him say “we must empower moderate muslims to fight against extremists.”

um, exsqueeze me? baking powder?

if i’m a “moderate muslim” sitting at home, minding my business, paying my taxes, and generally being a good person, why the hell is it *my* obligation to do something about a bunch of nutters who have sweet-fuck-all to do with my life or anything i belive in or stand for? no one tells “moderate christians” that they are somehow responsible for solving the problem of crazy anti-abortionists who shoot people. or that “moderate jews” need to address hard-line israelis who think pre-emptive assasinations of palestinians are okay.

what prejudicial bullshit. a bunch of crazy muslims do a bunch of crazy things that our thoroughly inept but elected and financed government is helpless to do anything about… and suddenly the whole stinking mess is thrown into the laps of the average decent muslim citizens, and told they have to sort it out themselves. wtf? i’d be absolutely irate.

another gem from the press conference: blair says the veil some muslim women wear is a mark of separation which makes others uncomfortable, therefore we must help them “integrate” into western society. a) duh. of course it’s a symbol of separation and differentiation – that’s the point. b) facial tattoos and piercings are done for the same effect and make people uncomfortable, but no one is all up in arms about *those* and c) people do not *have* to “integrate” into society if they don’t want to. i don’t think the fact that it makes *us* uncomfortable means *they* should change. society will just have to learn to deal… the same way it has dealt with other things which make people uncomfortable – like gays, interracial marriage, and other cultural clashes. maybe it is deliberately provocative – but so are a lot of other things. and it’s not going away just because we dislike it.

anyway, i’m back in london now, as you may have surmised. the world tour is officially over now, and lots to talk about since i’ve been away! so stay tuned…

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