Making Friends Abroad

Posted on January 6, 2010 by MAL

As I have such close friends back home, being away from them is always hard. I did it once in Paris, but again, I was with other Americans who I didn’t have to try that hard with. Being in England, though seemingly easy, was quite tough at first to feel like I fit in. I do tend to blurt out random abrupt direct things at the most inopportune times, and that can be a turn off. Plus, if you’re in your home country, it can be weird to be friends with a foreigner, and honestly, I don’t blame people for not wanting to try to befriend me. We all remember the foreign kid at school. Well, that’s me!

Plus, I think I’m actually a natural loner.

Others might disagree, but I think, naturally, I am. I make a real effort to be outgoing. I think if I just let myself go, I could easily be in the corner most of the time watching others interact with others. Also, if I let myself think too long and hard about meeting new people, going out with big groups or being the center of attention, I get panicky. So, I make myself not think about it and push through…after all, that’s what you gotta do in life. Push through the things that scare you the most, right?

Mostly all the jobs I have ever had has meant me being alone for the better part of the day. And even as I get older, again, I’m straying away from acting and feeling more comfortable with being alone on my laptop writing about characters.

So, why am I writing about being a friendless old outcast?

Well, I was recently asked to guest blog on the illustrious Melissa’s Smitten by Britain blog, and we came up with a post about how I started a ladies group in England as a foreigner. I was a member of one in Los Angeles, and found it to be one of the most fulfilling things I did whilst I was there.

So, if you’re like me – a lonely miserable expat who is in dire need of friends (just kidding!), then start your own group! I swear there is nothing like getting together with a group of women to lift your spirits. These women have become true friends, and I’m so happy they agreed to come hang out every month. I didn’t even have to pay them!

READ MY GUEST BLOG POST HERE!

First Adult Thanksgiving…DONE.

Posted on November 29, 2009 by MAL

Even though I may have almost had a minor heart attack in the days coming up to the event, it was nothing that making some lists, planning by the hour what my schedule would be and just a fantastic host of a boyfriend couldn’t solve. I kind of am a bit disgusted with myself because it went so well. I was half expecting to have some really funny, clever stories to share, and anecdotes of how a Lady Who Lunches should never try to cook. But alas, let’s face it – it was a bloody (yes, I said it…BLOODY!) good evening that couldn’t have gone smoother.

Guests arrived by 8PM, food was out by 8:30 and warm, and we even had a master carver who helped carve the turkey. Because, lord knows I didn’t know how. Turkey fully cooked, and besides the lack of support for my pumpkin pie…all the other foods were eaten. Like Jock said, he didn’t think the British were ready for Pumpkin in a pie.

However, much to my surprise, they were ready for some sweet potato casserole with marshmallows on top! Once they got over the “marshmallows? And, you’re sure it’s not dessert?,” they dove right in and there was none left by the end of the evening.

The last person strayed out at 3:30 in the morning.

I’m very proud. Very very proud, and honestly, I couldn’t have done it without everyone else pitching in with cooking some of the sides, and Jock popping his head around asking who needed a drinky drink. First Thanksgiving as an adult…DONE.

I had such a good time, I almost forgot to take pictures. These are the few I did get around to taking…

Turkey for Twenty Four

Posted on November 20, 2009 by MAL

I have signed up to do another half marathon. The Bath Half. Eek.

Somehow, this is in no way as frightening to me as the prospect of cooking an entire turkey for 24 people. 24!! Ten plus ten plus four! Twenty Four!!

Because that is what I brilliantly signed up to do.

In a moment of clarity last month at our Ladies Who… meeting, between the glugs of red wine and the presentation of vibrators (no, it wasn’t some weird sexual ritual we do at our ladies group…although I’m pretty sure that’s what my boyfriend and all his friends are thinking goes on..it was Ann Summers), I had volunteered to host the next evening in November. Not only for Ladies, but also for Gentlemen.

It made sense.

We hold our meetings on the last Thursday of every month, and in America, the last Thursday of the month of November is…that’s right folks…Turkey Day!

No one was holding a knife to my neck saying “You must help America conquer the world by stuffing turkey down 24 British people’s throats, and sharing our tradition!” No, in fact, I’m pretty sure no one even asked me what Thanksgiving was, nor asked me if I could bring our weird tradition of, as Jock calls it, “stuffing-ourselves-silly-a-month-before-Christmas-just-like-we-do-at-Christmas-time-but-with-no-presents” to the British Isles.

In fact, it’s become quite difficult for me to even describe to questioning Britons why we actually do it.

I mean, why do we do it to ourselves? That’s what I want to ask my fellow Americans on this first Thanksgiving away from home. Why?? Not why like, “Why could we possibly want to get together with family and have a nice meal?” But more like “Why does this holiday still actually exist?”

The pilgrims and the Native Americans never got along. They definitely never had a big dinner on Plymouth rock (OK, apparently they did have a dinner – there goes my knowledge of history!), and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t really care if we continued this tradition or not. When I so naively invited these 24 people to my house for this evening of Turkey, Cranberry sauce, Stuffing and Pumpkin Pie, and a few did venture to ask me what the day was all about, the only thing I could muster was “It’s the day we give thanks…I guess?”

And, that seems like a pretty good explanation. Wouldn’t you say?

So, they don’t know it yet, but I’m planning on making the evening even more uncomfortable than it already will be with 24 people crammed in our small house, badly cooked turkey and not enough cutlery or places to sit by asking them all to give a reason why they are thankful.

I will ask for silence.

I will ask that everyone take a moment, and then go around the house and share what they have to be thankful for. After all, it’s what my mother would want me to do.

And, inside I will be giggling wildly. Oh, they’re going to hate it! I mean, it’s bad enough at home in America where we’re supposedly good at sharing emotion and deep thoughts. But here? Here?! They would rather give up such British institutions as Tea or Cadbury…oh wait, they’re already giving up that one…or the Queen! Yes, the Queen!, they would rather give up the Queen than share deep emotions.

Ok, I’m exaggerating. That’s going a bit far.

I would never subject my poor friends to such cruelness I had to go through as a child.

I’d just ask them to write down what they’re thankful for on a piece of paper and put it in a bowl. And, later, I will pull that bowl out and read them all aloud. Or write them all down and email them in a mass email. Or just post it on here. Or make billboards and hang in front of said person’s house…

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Back to the turkey I’m trying to cook. How did my mom do it? How do moms around the world do it? I’m having panic attacks lying in bed at night thinking about hosting a party for this many…

Let’s be honest. I had never cooked an entire meal for more than two…count them…one, two…people before last year. But, being the Lady Who Lunches, I found it was my duty (haha, I said duty) to learn how to cook. Not do as most Ladies Who Lunch would do and hire a personal chef, but no, I wanted to cook. Because, as much as I do love stir fry and the ease of flipping meat and oil in a pan, after two solid months of Jock and I eating the same combination of three ingredients (i.e. meat, onions, peppers), I decided there needed to be a change.

So, yes, now I have had three, I would go so far as to say, successful dinner parties since then – for FOUR people. FOUR. Not TWENTY FOUR. But FOUR.

And yes, I have ventured out of stir fry into such realms as Jerk Chicken, Mango-filled Cream Puffs and Asian Five-Spiced Chocolate Cake, and besides the Chocolate Cake, all has come out well.

And, even though stir fry was a drastic change from my single days of popcorn and wine for dinner, skipping lunch and instant oatmeal for breakfast, cooking for 24 people seems a bit more extreme coming from small dinner parties, doesn’t it?

But none of you will feel the least amount of pity for me when I tell you that I have help. Gasp! I know. I confess it. I had to dish out some of the sides to the other ladies. I couldn’t do it all. Sob. I had to pass the baton to the others. Cringe. And here is the final blow – I am not wonderwoman. In case any of you were in doubt. I am not WonderWoman. All that fan mail gone to waste…

This Thursday, I am a Lady Who… asks for help when I need it.

And, I seriously can’t wait for Thanksgiving. I feel like I did when I was a little girl and got my newest Roald Dahl book for my birthday, staring at it knowing that it would be filled with joy, adventure, strange and sometimes off-colour English humour, and best of all, fantastic stories. I wonder what the others will think…

Oh, but one more thing. To put added pressure on myself, I asked all the ladies if they would read my first 100 pages of my newly edited book for feedback. I’m finished editing page 50. Only 50 pages to go in a week!

So, what are you thankful for?

P.S. Stay tuned for a tea giveaway….

“Ladies Who…Concoct Cocktails!” Invitation

Posted on September 15, 2009 by MAL

Our next Ladies Who… event is below. There may also be a delicious surprise dessert, but Shhhh, don’t let the other ladies know. After all, it is a surprise! (Yes, I realize the irony of posting this on the world wide web and calling it a surprise. But they’ll never know…winky face).

Since starting this group, it’s been so great to hear about other women’s stories of groups they have started or have been a part of. I just find it so important for ladies to have a strong support system, and although there are other ways to have that besides starting a social group, we are more powerful when we share each other’s stories and can laugh and enjoy what it means to be a woman. Other women just continue to amaze me – what they accomplish, how they accomplish it, and just when I think I have someone nailed down and pinpointed – another facet to them is showed and unearthed. We are so complicated! I love it!

Please continue to share stories here and everywhere!

That’s why I am so excited to have Kate Gover come and share her excitement for tea with our group. Here is a brief snippet about her and her passion for everything tea from her website:

Built in 1867, the Lahloo was one of the most famous tea clippers of the 19th century. So-called because of the way they “clipped” miles, clippers were built for speed and raced to bring tea from China to London. Having grown up around dockside in London, Kate Gover’s great-great grandfather George Hockaday was drawn into a career as a sailor and he worked on the Lahloo as she joined the clipper races….

Embracing her love and enthusiasm for tea, Kate Gover started to formulate a plan for her own tea business in 2005. She embarked upon a mission to research everything she could about the very best tea, where it was produced, who produced it and the history behind its production.
Through her experiences, Kate discovered that the very best tea is not readily available on the open market and set about looking for tea importers in this country who shared their passion and enthusiasm. The caveat was that they had to import seasonally and direct from independent tea gardens that supported traditional growing and processing methods.
The concept for Lahloo has been born out of the knowledge and passion gathered over a decade of research, travelling, sampling, smelling and tasting.

And so comes Ladies Who…Concoct Tea Cocktails!

“I Am a Lady Who…” Thursdays

Posted on September 10, 2009 by MAL

I’ll go first.

I am a Lady Who… had a dog named Ari.

I was nine going on ten. I wanted a dog. My mother didn’t want me to have a dog. “A dog lasts for many years,” she said, ” and I don’t think you realize the amount of responsibility it takes to care for and pay for a dog.”

I wouldn’t have it. I annoyed her. I begged her. I wouldn’t shut the f@&# up for days, weeks, months. Who knows how long my poor mother had to adore the annoying pre-pubescent chubby bandana-wearing freak constantly badgering her about a dog. “I want a dog. Pllllease, can we have a dog?”

So, my mother, being the ever-so-wily mother that she was, came up with a plan to shut me up, and hopefully stomp out any hope of me getting a dog. “If you are truly serious about this dog, and you want to learn the type of commitment that is needed to raise one, then you must raise $1,000,” she asserted.

This is where I smile, jump up and down, and throw my arms around her wonderful little self. Not quite the reaction she was looking for. I was determined, and now I had a goal. Not things you want to arm those chubby cheeks with if you don’t want something to happen.

Six months of shoveling snow, raking leaves, mowing lawns, pet-sitting (yes, I started a pet sitting business), and I had not only lost some of my baby fat, but I had raised $500 to the chagrin of my mother.

She knew it was only a matter of time before I had raised it all, which meant a matter of time that she would be stuck with this dog when I left for college. So, the annoying little girl got what she was after!

Preferably my mother had two other requests – the dog couldn’t bark and couldn’t shed. “Ummmm, isn’t that what having a dog is all about?” You may ask…

Would that deter me? Oh no. I went to the library and found out that there were numerous dogs that didn’t shed, but only one that didn’t bark. A beautiful Basenji. Beautiful dogs, but hideously expensive and temperamental. So, we decided on a Cairn Terrier – my best friend Courtney had one, and so did Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, so it seemed good enough for us. They rarely barked, barely shed, and were intelligent, energetic, and loyal.

We found a breeder in the newspaper. I turned 11, and she was delivered to my house. I named her Ariana (meaning silver, for the silver streak on her back) Aubrey of Willow. Because she was a pure bred, she needed a proper name! Duh! And Willow Avenue was the street we lived on. We called her Ari (pronounced Airy).

She was a defiant little dog. She trained easily, but she had a habit of peeing inside just to spite you. She would walk right by your side on the leash just to the point when you trusted she wouldn’t run away, and as soon as you undid her leash, she was off. She protected you from other dogs twice her size.

Then Ralph happened. Ralph was my sister’s new dog. Amanda didn’t have to jump through hoops to get her. Yes, Ralph was a her and a bassett hound. Ralph dominated Ari, and I don’t think she was ever the same since. She became depressed.

Then, I took her with me across the country to California. She was definitely never the same since then. She would hide from people, she became a recluse.

Finally, eleven years had passed, and I couldn’t take care of her anymore. I was in my early twenties, and not as fit as a mother as I was when I was thirteen. My mother took her, and Ari livened up. Mom said she knew this day would come and she dreaded it.

But, she fell more in love with Ari than probably even I. She has been by her side for the last five years everyday, and she was her buddy. She walked her everyday, she fed her, and as Ari became more and more deaf, blind and mute (ironically exactly how she would have preferred her to be as a puppy) – my mother became her mother.

This Tuesday, my mother put her down. She was going on 16 years old, and very old for a dog. She had no quality of life. My mother was the one who was there with her as she was laid to rest.

I didn’t think I would be this emotional when I heard Ari was gone. I hadn’t been with her in five years, but she was with me for more of my life than she wasn’t. My mom and I cried together on the phone.

Thanks mom for letting me get a dog. I am a Lady who had a dog named Ari. (Please excuse the ridiculous picture below – I take no responsibility for the bow on my dog’s head…but she is cute, huh?)