Spanish Lullaby

I was traveling in Spain on business last week. There is nothing more lonely than staying in a hotel room on your own.

The first time I had my hotel room for work I felt so grown up and couldn't help jumping from double bed to double bed only to fall in a fit of giggles. These days the first thing I do is check out the view from the room:

Marbella - seaview from the right angle.
Madrid - view of the farmacia across the street.
Barcelona - view of the city.

Dreams they come wildly after late nights of San Miguel - my Spanish lullaby. I think I'm missing home.

home:
when I am in Spain = London
when I am in London = the States
when I am in the States = Sandwich NH, San Francisco, Hawaii - depending on where I am.

Do you think it is tragic that home is never ever where I am standing in that moment in time?

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

The Best Moments of the Arcadia Xmas Party

1. The mini hamburgers.
2. Dancing with Jordi.
3. Watching the newest 5'2" catwalk model - Miss C. Jeffries strut her stuff.
4. Felicity's matador swish, then push-hike of the polka dot dress.
5. Screaming down the phone, 'I Will Survive' to poor sick Sarah.
6. Tang posing for her 'glamour' shots in the red leather booth.
7. Dorothy's ruby red shoes.
8. Getting a cab home with kleptomanics.

International Xmas Party

You gotta let your Soul Glow!

The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

BBC Spam

Last night I went over to my British Born Chinese friend, Angela's flat for dinner. She has been promising me a Spam dinner ever since she learned that I too shared the love of that delicacy called, SPAM! Nothing that she is too proud to acknowledge in the work environment as she feels it will make her come across as "unprofessional."


Anyways, this was the menu:
Wild Alaskan Salmon topped with Chinese pickles
Spam Stir Fry (bell peppers and leftover mushrooms she wanted to get rid of)
Steamed Broccoli w/Oyster Sauce
Thai Fragrant Rice

At 8:45 we sat down to eat. Angela made excuses about the food being overcooked - blaming the two glasses of Reisling we had knocked back had made her extra chatty. Didn't I read somewhere in an Amy Tan book ( The Joyluck Club? The Hundred Secret Senses?) how Chinese people always put their own cooking down in order to show humility but inside are genuinely beaming inside over their culinary skills? And the polite thing to do was of course to disagree, which I promptly proceeded to do -shaking my head and insisting that everything tasted lovely. But my manners escaped me when after dinner I told her that it was not the Wild Alaskan Salmon or the Marks & Spencer's Broccoli, but the Spam dish which I had liked the best. Can't beat good processed animal parts!!

Next time I will have to introduce her to some local Hawaiian style Spam dishes. Angela, darling get ready for some Spam Musubi!!

Homesickness

Can someone find me the cure?

Aloha Welcome to Hawaii

Yesterday was the longest day ever. It just never ended - time just wouldn't tick its arse FORWARD! Up for 24 hours. Racked up the miles. Fed the grump machine. But after a total of 20 hours flying time not to mention the additional layover hours, I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. And it said to me in glorious rainbow colors, 'Aloha Welcome to Hawaii.'

I am home.

Not Found

Where are you?
eclipsing
emptiness
peaceful
strength
aquamarine
loneliness

Boomerang

I was just reading Lynn's blog post, 2 years ago. ( A reflective look back). It was so weird because I had just finished writing her a letter about the past two years of being with James and living in England. Trying to find the right words. Trying to encapsulate the lessons and challenges. Trying to express the joy and happiness. And there it came boomeranging right back to me,' We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned as to have the life that is waiting for us.'

Perfect. Synchronicity.

Milk and Honey

Yesterday, James and I celebrated our two year anniversary. Two years may not sound like a lot to some people, but to me, it feels like quite an achievement. And this is just the beginning.

I got a bouquet of flowers sent to work. The florist apparently got too excited with his twigs and bamboo shoots as it looked more like a forest and was probably half my size, taking out everyone that came too close on the tube. We had dinner at this fabulous resturant in Covent Garden called Maggiories. It is internationally acclaimed for its modern European cuisine and was awarded, at it’s first attempt, the prestigious Wine Spectator ‘Award of Excellence’ in 2002, and has since gone on to win the “Best of Award of Excellence” for a further two consecutive years (2003 and 2004). James and I shared a Yering Pinot Noir (Australia). After James had his port, expresso and a try with his Japanese with the Japanese people sitting next to us, we headed off for a nigth cap at Milk and Honey. It is a private members club, with just one other one in NY. With membership costing £300 a year, after a few pina coladas, James was convinced we could afford it...we even progressed to discuss who we would invite to 'our' private booth. There is apparently a three year wait, so I told him to start saving now.

So, the highlight of the night was when the waiter ( he was more than a waiter though, because he wasn't wearing the waiter costume, maybe the 'host?') came over to take our orders, James ordered me a vodka martini ( three olives, remember) and then the guy asks me what kind of vodka? It casually rolls of my tongue , 'Chopin.' * pause * 'Interesting,' he says. 'Hmmm, Chopin...I am not sure we can offer you anything like that.' He proceeded to reccomment the house Russian vodka, which I considered, then said,'yes.' So once he left the table, James and I seriously start cracking up, because in the middle of this snotty private members club, I had stumped this guy. He probably looked at me and was expecting Smirnoff, Skky, maybe Grey Goose...but nope, caught him off with the Chopin. Classic.

Check out their HOUSE RULES:

http://www.mlkhny.com/houserules/

And like, OH MY GOD, what kind of bar doesn't allow 'star-fucking?'