as a kid, my favourite books were the mary poppins series, because they told stories of a world where *anything* could happen, a world where children’s fantasies and reality were inseperable and unpredictable. and somewhere in my travels through the realms of that literary fantasy, the idea of living in london became planted in my head.

more than 20 years later, i determined that i would turn my childhood dreams into a real-life reality. so i got rid of all my belongings, moved in with my mother to save money, took on extra jobs, sold my car, enrolled in night classes, and applied for a student visa. making my decision, to actually getting on a plane took 6 months of hard work and sacrifice. and there were innumerable times when i wondered just what the hell i was getting myself into. i worked 50 hours a week, took beginner college classes 4 nights a week, fought with my mother non-stop, had no social life, no belongings, no transportation – all to move to a city i hadn’t spent more than 48 hours in. to head off blindly into the unknown with no job, no friends, no security. it felt like madness a lot of the time. and it probably was. (i needn’t point out that most thought i had lost my marbles.) i wrote in my journal on the day that i landed, “i made this happen because i fixed my mind on it, and would not let go.” probably the most important lesson in self-determination i’ve ever experienced.

last year, as i was getting ready to leave, i reflected upon the 3 year anniversary of my arrival in london. the initial romance, the inevitable fade. the hard-fought truce i managed to broker between a city trying to best me, and the person i was determined to become. the tension between the fantasy life i thought i would lead, and the reconciliation with a new reality.

and today makes four years. leaving and returning has made me feel even closer to this city in many ways. i came because i felt i needed to. i stayed because i felt i had to. but i returned because i wanted to. i no longer believe in the fantasy – this isn’t mary poppins’ london. but i also no longer need it. the reality of living here, both good and bad, is something i choose every day. every day i don’t get on a plane to be somewhere else, is another vote of commitment to the weight of my life in london. that’s probably not a forever thing, but it’s been enough for four years worth. four years of deciding that even though the fantasy never lived up to the hype, the reality ain’t half bad.

but what i’ve learned about myself between getting off the plane and today… that’s the real dream come true.

i’m not a big dave matthews fan, but through all the hardest times of doubt – every time i thought i’d never get here, or wondered what the hell i was turning my life upside-down for, or felt like kicking out all the windows, or wondered why i had run across an ocean only to end up depressed, lonely, broke and scared – this song carried me through.

dave matthews band – grey street

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

There’s a stranger speaks outside her door
Says take what you can from your dreams
Make them as real as anything
It’ll take the work out of the courage
…
There’s an emptiness inside her
And she’d do anything to fill it in
And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now
It’s more like cold blue ice in her heart
She feels like kicking out all the windows
And setting fire to this life
She could change everything about her
Using colors bold and bright
But all the colors mix together – to grey
And it breaks her heart

Like this post

Unlike

from my friend v:

So my sister-in-law called me today all bubbly. she said she had to tell me this trippy story.

She was on the phone ordering plants from a nursery in New Mexico. she told the person her name and he said “Oh I know someone of that same name in massachusetts” to which my sister-in-law replied “That’s me- that’s my family! Who do you know?” The person said they knew B [v's husband].

So I asked if the person was [another friend], as he is the only male I know in New Mexico who would know B’s last name.

No, sister-in-law said. She told me his name and it was G [my ex husband]. I said, “He is in New Mexico???” and she said he was.

Wierd eh? Anyhow small world. And what the heck is he doing in New Mexico?

which is all god’s way of reminding me that I owe G an email… if you’re reading, i hope you’re well.

cause this song makes me think of g:

jurassic 5 – concrete schoolyard

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

several years ago, i was dating a guy who was doing his doctorate in history. his thesis paper was on historical agriculture and land ownership policies in africa (well, a bit more complex than that but i never really understood it properly, to be honest). in any case, because of his scholarly focus, he had more than a passing interest in the policies of robert mugabe’s government. i clearly remember having a discussion with him back in the beginning of 2001 – we were in a roadside diner in providence rhode island, eating french fries at 2am, and he was telling me about the impact of the land re-distribution policy occurring in zimbabwe, which at that point was beginning to show signs of real crisis. this was all news to me at the time, and i feigned attention mostly because it was so important to him. but i remember that he predicted that unless he could be forced into “retirement” in a prominent symbollic post (which would allow him to save face) by south africa’s government, that mugabe would continue to drive zimbabwe’s future into the ground through his egotism and delusions of grandeur, until he died or was assassinated.

since then, i’ve paid attention.

and here, six years later, how prophetic those words seem. south africa has not, and will not (cannot?) get involved without risking their own stability. should civil war break out in its neighbour, the flood of refugees swarming over the border would hit the tentative economy and delicate infrastructure hard. south africa provides zimbabwe with much of its electricity, and could have chosen earlier on to exert influence through sanctions on that vital resource – but at this point it would only further harm some of the most vulnerable people. and up until recently, there’s been little pressure from the west for south africa to get more involved. even when the world leaders decried the most recent elections as a massive fraud, south africa found very little critical to say.

a few years ago, shortly after i moved to london, i struck up a friendship with a work colleague from zimbabwe. we’d hang around outside the office building, smoking cigarettes and shooting the breeze. as i got to know her, she told me about life in zimbabwe. her mother still lived there, much to my friend’s dismay. over the two years i knew her, she told me stories from back home in her mother’s village. stories of raids and rapes and killings by police. stories of people being forced from their homes and farms. traumatic stories of loss and war. she called her mother and visited as often as she could. when we’d meet up outside i would ask her for the latest news from her mother, and listen to her worries about her safety, and sadness at the state of her country. eventually, she convinced her mother to move to portugal with her and leave her house behind. i remember breathing a vicarious sigh of relief.

so every time zimbabwe or mugabe is in the news, i think about my friend and her mother, and i think about what’s happened in the six years since i first started paying attention to what was happening. i think about the things my ex-boyfriend told me about mugabe’s rise to power and current regime. i remember reading about mugabe denying food aid to areas that didn’t support him. i remember hearing about the tyranny of the police and the fear that settled over villages at night. i remember seeing the pictures of the razed houses. i remember seeing the protesters outside the zimbabwean embassy with their weekly saturday vigil and their posters and their hope for their homeland.

i’m not really sure what i’m trying to say here except that i’ve been heartened recently to read about zimbabwe on the front pages, even if it’s for all the wrong reasons. the media is paying attention when opposition leaders are arrested and beaten. protesters are storming the london embassy. the u.s. and e.u. are considering tougher sanctions. people’s stories are being heard. something has got to give. things can’t continue on this way.

i only hope it’s not too late.

johnny clegg & savuka – great heart

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

The world is full of strange behaviour
Every man has to be his own saviour
I know I can make it on my own if I try
But I’m searching for a Great Heart to stand me by
Underneath the African sky
A Great Heart to stand me by

Like this post

Unlike

at a work meeting on friday, we discussed the growing use of databases (in my job we maintain a voluntary database, but there will soon be a mandatory nationwide children’s database), and got off onto a side conversation about i.d. cards. i have a lot of conversations like this, and in this particular round-table it was one american to 5 brits. out of the brits, 4 of the 5 voiced having no concerns about i.d. cards, claiming they had “nothing to hide” and they would help crack down on terrorism. (for any new readers, my oft-opined views on privacy rights can be found here and here and here and least tactfully but most colourfully here.) hell, i was shocked even *one* brit agreed with me – usually in these scenarios i play the role of “lone paranoid american with the tin-foil hat”. the huge sacrifice of privacy in just living here is something i will never get accustomed to, but i *have* become accustomed to the prevailing attitude of most people around me.

so imagine my surprise reading this:

Experts have called for a halt in the spread of CCTV cameras.

Britain is now being watched by a staggering 4.2million – one for every 14 people and a fifth of the cameras in the entire world.

The Royal Academy of Engineering also warned that lives could be put at risk by the lurch towards a ‘big brother’ society in which the Government and even supermarkets hold huge amounts of personal information on us.

It said any system was vulnerable to abuse – including bribery of staff and computer hackers gaining access.

-snip-

Professor Gilbert added: “We have supermarkets collecting data on our shopping habits and also offering life insurance services.

“What will they be able to do in 20 years’ time, knowing how many doughnuts we have bought?”

and how apropos that this began playing on my itunes:

elvis presley – suspicious minds

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

cctv, uk, privacy rights

at a work conference at a *very* posh venue (one whitehall place, for londoners – yup, that’s some wicked old architecture. gloved servers, tailcoated doormen and all) we each had a little box of mints at our individual place settings…

and i had absolutely *no* shame in openly scavenging afterwards for people’s leftovers, swooping in like a vulture on roadkill.

oh, and i also ate the brown sugar lumps at the coffee station. this will surprise absolutely no one who’s ever suffered the embarrassment of eating out at a restaurant with me!

frank black – sugar daddy

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

so i’ve finally completed my marathon attempt at citizenship in under 2 weeks! put my application in today, and (fingers crossed) should hear something back in the next few days/weeks/months.

it’s all over but the crying. i’m running around the flat practicing the lyrics to “god save the queen“… because, lord help me, i *cannot* get “my country tis of thee” out of my head, and i don’t think they’d be very appreciative if i burst into a chorus of “land of the pilgrims’ pride” in the middle of the ceremony.

the smiths – the queen is dead

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

One of the more mind-boggling traditions on this side of the pond, is the eurovision song contest. this is an annual event where all european countries are invited to put forward an unrecorded pop song, performed by amateur bands or artists, for competetive consideration. The “best song” (and I use that term loosely) is determined by public vote.

eurovision is just one of those baffling *european* things that, not having been born here, i’ll probably never fully appreciate. although the competition has been around since 1956, its biggest claim to fame is having launched the career of supergroup abba in 1972, and they’ve been trying to match that wild success ever since. abba won with their song “waterloo” – which is, in fact, a fairly indicative benchmark of the calibre of most of the groups and songs entered. each year, a new winner is chosen, gets their 15 minutes of televised fame… and then slinks off into obscurity forever.

the whole thing is pretty laughable. the general rule of thumb for entries seems to be the cheesier the better. the “controversies” which crop up from year to year include accusations of satanist lyrics from a finnish monster metal band called lordi (one of the notable exceptions to the abba-esque rule), and not-so-veiled references to iranian nukes in this year’s israeli entry (what israel is doing in a european competition, i could make an educated guess at – but i’m not touching *that* topic with a ten foot pole…) overall, however, it’s much more in the genre of entertainment-lite-lite. this year’s entry for the u.k. is artist scooch singing “Flying the flag (for you)”. to give you a gander of *exactly what you’re missing out on*, just click below.

bear in mind, this is the *winning* british entry. a song with exactly 2 lines of lyrics, whose best gimmick is dancing flight attendants. people spent their precious time and hard-earned money to vote for this tripe.

and now you understand my sense of utter bewilderment every year when the eurovision contest is trumpeted from television and newspaper headlines. the only phrase which accurately captures the reaction of my assaulted-and-stunned musical sensibilities?

“wtf!?!?”

scissor sisters – music is the victim

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

eurovision

sorry for being so quiet this weekend. as you can see, i’m working on tweaking the site just a tiny bit. Yay or nay? I might still play around with the banner some more.

but overall i think it’s a more polished look. what say ye?

Like this post

Unlike

so yesterday i took my “Life in the UK” test – 20 minutes of my life that i’ll never get back. 24 questions that took me under 3 minutes to complete (and that was reading the questions twice!) what kind of questions could they ask me to prove i was sufficiently british and assimiliated, one might ask?

gems such as:

1. In Britain, how many children are there under the age of 19?
2. Who replaced Neville Chamberlain in 1940 as prime minister?
3. What year did women get the right to vote?
4. How many young people move on to higher education?
5. Where were bus crews recruited from in the 1950’s?

(answers below, if anyone cares)

I mean this is stuff lots of Brits don’t even know – what is the point? After living here for at least 3 years (the earliest you can get citizenship) either you can function in society or you can’t – but memorizing facts from the census won’t change that one way or another.

still, it was a hoop… so i had to jump. the lady at the test centre last night said, “You’re my first American – why do you want a British passport?” and I said, “Because I live *here* now.” people used to ask me all the time why i was here – i suppose the grass is always greener.

and now the last component is my application appointment on sunday. they take my application, make sure it’s complete, copy my passport, (rob me blind) etc. then it’ll take anywhere from 10 days (J’s turnaround time) to 6 months for them to decide. then I have to do the ceremony, swear allegiance to the queen, yadda yadda yadda – which takes another few weeks. *then* (and only then) i get to apply for the passport (and hope I don’t get selected for the new personal interview process, which takes even longer – right now they’re doing a phased implementation on this over the next year, with every new passport application requiring interview [including credit check, police check, etc] by next April).

blech.

on an entirely different note, here are some photos from my lunch hour walk the other day. can’t believe i’ve lived here all this time and never taken photos of this stuff.

answers are: 1. 15 million, 2. Winston Churchill, 3. 1918, 4. 1-in-3, 5. West Indies

husker du – something i learned today

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

equinox: when the Sun is at one of two opposite points on the celestial sphere where the celestial equator and ecliptic intersect. In a wider sense, the equinoxes are the two days each year when the center of the Sun spends an equal amount of time above and below the horizon at every location on Earth. The word equinox derives from the Latin words aequus (equal) and nox (night).

the equinox heralds the official beginning of spring. i’ve written before about how important, both physically and metaphysically, spring is to my being and well-being. it’s closure, reprieve, renewal, all rolled up into one.

but there’s another element to this day. they say that during the equinox, if you time it exactly right, you can get an egg to stand on its end* – demonstrating a moment of perfect balance in the cosmos. i’ve never tried – my life just doesn’t work that precisely. but the concept of balance is important. the need to pay equal attention to body, mind, spirit. to evaluate and adjust that which has gone off-kilter. (and it’s so easy to get out of kilter when you’re not looking.) to examine how the parts work together, and treat each with care. tuning strings back into harmony, attending to areas of neglect.

and so even in celebrating the return of sun, i am reminded to take stock and balance the scales. run, meditate, read, play, sleep, eat, relax, walk, listen, work, talk, stretch, drink – in equal measure. pay attention to balancing the egg – for more than just a moment in a day in a year.

*yes, I know this is a myth, but it makes for a good blog post metaphor. thanks for the inspiration, v.

knapsack – balancing act

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

i’m burnt. brain fried. i need a few minutes of space, a few glimpses of sky through the hectic landscape – let my lungs open up and fill with the possibility of calm, let my backbone melt into a comfortable, comforting slouch. let my mind settle and soothe.

and so i’m listening to this. i don’t know how it does the trick it do – but it do.

MP3 playlist (M3U)

featuring bedouin soundclash, arcade fire, qr5, the be good tanyas, taj mahal.

here’s the .

Like this post

Unlike

every time the advert featuring this song comes one, he dances around and sings it to the cat, claiming, “he likes it!”

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

my dad was here for a long weekend visit.

i love him. of course i do – how could i not? but we have a hard time not hurting each other. i wish i knew why, so i could fix it. i wish we could talk without land mines. i wish our conversations were not fraught with the barbed unsaid, the sharp edges sidestepped, the little bruises we inflict in our fumbling attempts to communicate. it’s death by a thousand papercuts.

still: we keep trying, the pull of halves trying to make themselves whole. the father/daughter connection crashing headlong against the walls of our hearts. and maybe all family relationships are like that. trying and struggling for recognition, acceptance in spite of the pain – the kind of ache that only someone who knows you as part of themselves, can cause. maybe the love that comes after is the exceptional bit.

but there is love.

a few photos – more here.

guided by voices – hold on hope

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

well, part one of my three-part plan for world domination citizenship in under two weeks is complete. i am now a bona fide permanent resident. everything else from this point out is optional.

of course, they did have to make me sweat. apparently my previous immigration snafu was never “closed out” of the system, which meant a long and anxious 6 hour wait before getting my precious clearance. argh. but finally i have my passport back in my hands, with the lovely word “indefinite” stamped in it.

no time to relax and celebrate though – dad arrives tonight!!

(and i’m *dying* to post about the newest proposition to put litterers on the dna database… but that will have to wait for another time.)

song of the day: qr5 – the easiest lines

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

there’s a huge tempation, somedays, to use this space as a dumping ground for all my less attractive mind spews. undigested anxiety, strings of stress, knots of anger that sink in my stomach like rocks, or venom that bubbles to the surface. to get things out of my system and onto the page. let it all hang out, a typewritten tantrum.

or at other times, to write for people that i know read. cryptically referencing insider information meant only for them, dropping hints, trailing breadcrumbs in a forest of words. obliquely inviting expressions of caring and concern that i’m too shy to ask for. hoping someone reads between the lines, without my having to spell it out.

and then there are things i can’t tell *because* of who reads. things i am not at liberty to share with strangers, that remain hidden in the shadows of past and blurred memory. incomplete episodes, or embarrassing indiscretions that are best left unspoken. not so much secrets (though there are a few of those), as stories that are not mine to tell. restraining myself, respecting invisible boundaries, letting the fingers hover poised over the keys… then folding them into my lap while my mind races ahead.

the temptation is there somedays, to turn this blog into a journal, virtual confessional. twist it to my every emotional whim, spill the letters out in frustration, prayer, or joy.

but if i say “my blog is not my real life”, then i cannot turn my real life into a blog. and i know (in know!) that no matter how much i might want to write about it… not everyone wants to read about it.

i know (i know!) it’s a good rule of thumb, and most of the time i’m glad for it. but sometimes, somedays… it just kinda sucks.

sigh.

song of the day: knapsack – courage was confused

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

the other day I wrote about applying for my indefinite leave to remain.

then, this weekend, I found out about the massive visa hikes. double and treble the fees (which were fairly substantial to begin with) from 1st april.

if i run flat out, i might *just* be able to squeeze my applications in under the wire.

so now, my next two weeks look something like this:

15th: in-person application for my indefinite leave to remain (permanent residency), £500

15th-19th: dad arrives for visit

19th-21st: cram like crazy for my “life in the uk” test (rote memorization from the approved book, £10)

21st: take (and hopefully pass) “life in the uk” test, £35

21st-25th: complete application for citizenship and assemble documentation, references, etc.

25th: in-person application for citizenship,£200 + £35 administration fee

i hope i can pull it off. it’s madness, i tell ya’.

song of the day: the primitives – crash

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

I was watching your programme this morning, listening to the report on the resurgence of women’s roller derby, whilst enjoying my coffee – until I heard your reporter say something which made my jaw drop:

“*Should* women be involved in such a violent sport?”

I hate to be the one to have to break the news, but this is the year 2007. Women *should* be involved in whatever sport they damn well please – whether that be boxing, roller derby, rugby, or ballet.

Women *should* no longer be viewed as, or be implied to be delicate, dainty, helpless beings, too genteel for anything more vigorous than sitting around with a parasol. Women *should* be spoken about respectfully in the media, like the strong, passionate, and capable individuals they are.

If we can lead entire countries, raise families, run businesses, and serve in war, surely we *should* be able to survive a little weekend roller derby. Your reporter would do well to remember that.

Many thanks, yours sincerely, etc., etc…

(yes, i sent it!)

song of the day: josh ritter – girl in the war

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

i love to watch the crufts dog show every year on television.

i love to see the dogs…

but mostly i like to remember watching it with j in the days when we first got together, in between spending hours making out on the couch. ah, the throes of fresh new passion!

who knew it would only get better?

(ha!! j just compared a maltese with a full mop of hair to a sea squid. that boy makes me laugh.)

because it’s a fun song: elastica – mad dog

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

best. spam comment. ever. (it’s long – you might need a cup of coffee – but go catch it while it’s still up!)

song of the day: babaloo – what’s in the banana?

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

(oops! just realised i forgot a “song of the day” for yesterday’s post! that’s now been rectified!)

Like this post

Unlike

now that zeke will sit still for more than 5 seconds, and occasionally emerges from under the bedclothes…

song of the day: cat power – the greatest

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

it’s a friday afternoon and bernie and i are once again walking along the windy river, the sun peeking out between the spitting clouds. and after getting our friday work moan out of the way, we embark upon the topic of socialism, as we are wont to – me arguing that human nature is inherently greedy, and that this is antithetical to the notion of collective resources and collective power, making pure socialsm impossible. she arguing that darwinism may be a biological imperative for animals without social responsibility, but that nurture can override nature, if enough people are indoctrinated with the belief in self-sacrifice for the greater good. me: now that i’ve had some first hand experience of “socialist” countries, i’m even more convinced that communism as a theorised transitional model is far too easily manipulated to the will of dictators and oppressors – thus the lack of truly communal societies. she: marxism as the ideal remains a viable alternative which can not be disproven because it’s never been implemented – therefore we must continue to fight the good fight.

it’s a conversation we’ve had millions of times, on walks, over pints – both of us knowing that neither of us will be swayed. but that doesn’t stop us from trying, albeit with a healthy dose of respect and recognition that we’re both women who know our own minds. and though i never tell her so, i like that she continually tries to draft me for her team. i’m secretly pleased she thinks i’m worth the effort, in spite of my dour outlook. i find her faith in the ideal inspiring – as a middle aged mother, she’s still politically active, ideologically ambitious, committed to her version of a just world. and her arguments challenge me to support my own – examine what i believe to be true and evidence it. the way good debate always should.

in the end, i admire her optimism in the face of cruel, crass reality – the kind that’s long since turned me into a hardened cynic. i love the fact that she thinks we’re capable of more change than i give us credit for. i love that in bernie’s world, people are generous of spirit, each buoying each other so that everyone stays afloat.

it’s a nice world, and i’m glad someone lives in it – even if i can’t. and if bernie has her way, someday we all will.

song of the day:the beatles – revolution #1

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Like this post

Unlike

socialism