strange things in Tampa

here are some weird things we have seen and done in Tampa: 1) parking spaces for customers that have FAXED not emailed or called but faxed thought their food orders at chipotle. 2) deep fried alligator bites. the meat is definitely a cross between meat and fish. 3) people standing on thick bits of floating wood and navigating them like gondolas on the waterways.

Tampa

oh Tampa, how can anyone live in you and get anything done? we've spent three nights at Meg, Beth's sister's house in Tampa and it's been fabulous. it helps that Meg has an ace apartment on a fancy complex and that our room is ensuite and looks like a hotel room. there are three pools, a volleyball court, tennis courts, a putting green and the vie from the pool is of the waterway. the first night we had the most amazing top- shelf margaritas. I had leftover paella for breakfast on Saturday and then we watched the football and ate food from the food truck fair in the pub car park. weirdest thing was Phil's side of deep fried Mac n cheese. liked it's not bad enough. yesterday, we had an amazing all-you-can eat brunch, which included oysters, caviar and a dessert room. oh my! we didn't eat until 10pm and that was just the take away cheese that our server smuggled out for us. yum. off to the beach today. what a tough life...

I'm on holiday...

YES!

I don't care if I'm sick! I'm on holiday! I can sleep for a week!

YES!

I'm coming for ya, Florida!

YES!

Here cometh Bethan!

Mr. T handed over the visitor baton to Beffums last night. We had a day of parks (Bryant and Central) and had a healthy juice before spending about two hours trying to work out whether we could balance the AC units on arm-rests/ footstools/ ottomans so that the arse would hang out the window without overtipping, falling out, and killing someone. We decided an AC unit at a 45 degree angle to the floor won't really cut it so will just have to suck it up and wait until the handyman is back from his hols.

Delicious sushi at Takahachi after a 45 minute wait.

Today, the much-talked about thunderstorm finally came. And boy did it come down. We waited around in Chase bank for the rain to die down. 25 minutes later, we decided to run for it and arrived at the nail bar like sodden cats. It was bliss just sitting about getting pampered and we'd timed it perfectly. We'd walked around and seen everything we wanted to and then the rains came. Just wine tonight and then 90 degree heat in sunny Tampa tomorrow. Woo hoo!

Diamond dash

Dearest Father,

If you invite me to play diamond dash one more time, I may have to come back to Cullompton, change the settings and lock you out of Facebook.

Lovingly yours,

Eldest Daughter

brunch and Frasier weekend

the the boy's dad is here visiting. we've called this the Frasier visit as all we've done really is eat and watch Frasier. imaginative, I know. brunch on day on was at chez sardine, which is part of a mini chain of posh restaurants. unfortunately, this is the only branch that doesn't offer the bloody Caesar, which is a bloody Mary plus a prawn and oyster. they do love their oysters here. I had the most delicious and beautiful looking chirashi with char, which I've never eaten before. I hope the picture uploads OK. day two was at a new restaurant called feast. we'd spent about three hours coming up with s plan, as nothing seemed appealing in the grey, wet weather. we got as far as one block over. the food was lovely, lots of little bits, for example, a test tube of cold soup, a shot of muesli and yoghurt. and the the piece de resistance was the oxtail on brioche with a fried, poached egg on top. yes, you read that right. a fried, poached egg. we veritably rolled out of there. funniest was when two servers tried to take Mr T's away thinking he was done. 'no, I'm going to squeeze it in.' he'd reply each time. the bloody Mary was a beery Mary here.

Bluth's banana stand

Arrested development: free frozen bananas at the Bluth banana stand! note the weirdo in the stand. Not sure what she's doing.

Crawling to the finish line

Tuesday was the world's worst day. The thing that gets me is that I have an awful day and I go, 'That was it. That was as bad as it gets. The only way is up now.' But it never is, so when will I learn?

Bad days these days aren't actually as bad as at the beginning. Bad was doing a day at work and being faced with a pile of cardboard and making orders of ceremony until 12.30am before going to bed and then starting the whole thing again during our five-week planning of the wedding. Bad was staying up until 3am every night to pack our lives into boxes ready to go into storage. Bad was bursting into tears in the social services office when I thought I wouldn't be able to get a social security number.

Bad these days is learning that payroll hasn't been sorted out yet (though I'll still be paid). Or not being able to find duvet covers that aren't extortionately expensive. The thing that makes it bad is that the Boy and I are so tired. I feel like I'm crawling on my hands and knees to the finish line, which I've arbitrarily set as the flight to Tampa next week. I feel sorry for Bethan and Dude, who are coming to visit before then. They're going to be faced with this mole-like, ashen, lifeless friend/daughter-in-law.

I must remember that bad days happened to us pre-NYC, too.

Yesterday was good though. New friends came for dinner and cooed over the apartment and my lamb stew - which was obviously delicious. We ate a stack of cheese and all was right with the world.

i nearly died

before I go on, I made the boy come with me.
  so, we were in this skipping class and the boy was my partner and we were skipping (badly) as a pair. i looked down and saw this mother of all dust balls and was just thinking, 'cor, that's a big...' SUCK! and in it goes into my mouth. it was firmly lodged in my throat and i was trying to cough it up. the boy thought I'd hit myself with the skipping and was just looking at me, confused. then i was frantically pointing at his bottle of water as i really couldn't breathe by this point. he just couldn't work out what i was choking on. after a few glugs of water, the dust ball seem to have soaked up the water and expanded. then the boy was giving me the heimlich and then the instructor. all very embarrassing. ask the while all i could think was that the instructor smelled nice, like incense. the worse bit was that the dust ball was beginning to disintegrate and all the while, the instructor was still heimlich-ing me even though i was starting to breathe normally by this point. a couple of things, firstly, how much gross shit did i swallow? dead skin cells and the like. and secondly, can you imagine the boy having to tell my mum. the boy, 'so, Heidi, billychica died. we were skipping as a pair and this giant dust ball got stuck in her throat and she died.' not sure whether my mum wouldn't have questioned her English comprehension at that point.

One of those 'it's-a-small-world' instances and a Hollywood actress

We said no to bottomless drinks at brunch yesterday. Well done, the Thirlways!

However, I didn't say no to a fresh mozarella ball plus parma ham from a deli near ours. $53 dollars later Phil feels slightly bruised.

It has properly lashed it down the last few days. As in monsoon Asia/ Cardiff weather. The rain bounces up off the pavement and your pants are still soaking hours after. You smell like damp dog all day. The sun is out again today.

Very boring but we had our first uneventful laundry excursion yesterday. Huzzah.

Then we caught up with my friend, Amy from the Netherlands for her birthday. She's here with another friend from Canada whose birthday it also was, and a friend from Boston. The common link amongst them was that they had all lived in South Africa together. We first went for a drink at this cool bar called the Anyway Cafe with the grumpiest waitress I've ever met. Boo to you, waitress.

Then another of Amy's friends from her South Africa days joined us and I instantly recognised her face. We both had that scrunched up expression where you're trying to work something painful out on our faces.
Me: I know you from somewhere. Where are you from?
Tuva: I'm from Norway.
Amy: But she lived in London.
Me: What did you do in London.
Tuva: I was studying.
Me: At SOAS, on the Development Studies course and in 2007/2008, right?

How small is this world that I would meet a Norwegian in New York with whom I studied in London six years previous through a friend who we had met in Devon (I met Amy in school in Devon before she moved to Holland) and South Africa? It's pretty incredible.

Then we had a late-night drunken chat to the night doorman, who told us we have a Hollywood actress living in our building. I have a feeling that she lives on our floor, as one of the other doormen mentioned that there's a pregnant, British actress there, though it would be weird as the flat he was talking about is the one that always stenches of weed when we walk past. Interesting...

just been told a famous, British Hollywood actress with an equally famous, British Hollywood actor lives in our building. maybe on our floor, we're not sure. I said I'd probably let the lift go if that were true and they were in it. I mean, it'd just be awkward.

Curtains sans curtain rings

I could talk about the cute market I went to after work, which had new designers and craftsmen selling their wares. (I bought two cute, cute dresses.) Or hanging out with some mates in a dive bar and drinking a can of pork slap whilst eating pizza, but no, I'm going to complain about IKEA and their shit curtain rings.

IKEA, your curtains rings, which aren't even rings, are SHIT. Why are they too big to sit on cheap arse curtain pole that we bought for $10 dollars at Target? I mean, the handy man told me not to put heavy curtains on them for bloody hell's sake. So basically I could have only hung them on a piece of cotton thread. Great.

And IKEA, where are my 12 additional spice pots that I ordered three weeks ago? I have packets of spices languishing in my cupboard. And don't even get me started on the pole for my broom head. It's essentially a stick. Just give it to me, you bastards!

Geeky/cool gym or trendy/chic gym?

This week I went to two exercise classes, which are great examples of where I live, which officially in the East Village, but just on the northern edge bordering Union Square.

My two nearest gyms are Crunch and the Y at 14th Street. Crunch is this uber trendy gym with random classes whilst Y at 14th Street is a Jewish community centre. When I called up the Y, the membership staff told me that if I had taken any type of course in the last six years, they'd give me the student rate membership even if I couldn't prove it!

So on Monday, I went to Punk Rope, which is essentially a skipping class at the Y. It took place in a old school gym and the teachers were these two, geeky/trendy people who were so nice and laidback. We skipped and played stick-in-the-mud, I kid you not. It was bloody brilliant.

Tonight I went to SurfSet (TradeMarked, don't you know) at Crunch. They had these full-on pretend surfboards and it was all lights and sound systems. The instructors were super preppy, one a ripped dude, the a other lithe and well, preppy sun Goddess. It was all just too cool for school and trendy.

No prizes in guessing which gym I'll end up signing up with. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I kept falling off my pretend surfboard, but was amazing at stick-in-the-mud, honest.

Still, I thought it was pretty representative of the fact that you can walk five minutes up the road and the neighbourhoods change drastically. People's tastes are consequently reflected in the offerings at gyms. It's the same in London, I know, but it seems so stark here.

Starbucks, you're so gross

went to the most disgusting Starbucks today. just thinking about it makes me itch. me and this other bloke were constantly swatting at flies when we both looked yo at this wall of them. uck.

went to this super cool wine bar and then surprised myself and the boy with my knowledge of restaurants in the hell's kitchen/south of Columbus circus area. I surprise myself at my geeky memory for restaurants and bars and their location to tube stations. geek. will never get over our 10 minute tube journeys. amazing.

No news is good news

Yesterday was a mah day. I was fairly productive at work. Spoke to a donor that I have on my prospects list. Met up with a colleague who is visiting her sister from London with whom I went to Xian Famous Foods (gor, I love that place). My futon arrived. Had a drink post-work - the most ridiculously priced cheap drink ever (for NYC, anyway). The weather was nice. We had an ok dinner.

Anyway, I list this mundane list because I had no inclination to blog yesterday at all. I felt no angst or happiness. It was just a normal day, which I guess has got to be a good thing when I'm trying to settle in.

We woke up this morning to torrential rain. I haven't seen rain like this since London. Glad I don't have to commute in that!

A blah day so far

Things don't feel right today. Everything seems to be out of sorts. The weather looks cold, but is actually quite warm. My brain isn't engaged. I've plodded along. And I can't stop being hungry. All in all, a blah day so far.

A Cathartic Cry

I had bright hopes for yesterday. We were going to be tourists, hire bikes and cycle around Battery Park and up the West side.

Unfortunately, today was the five boros bike ride, which meant that Bike and Roll the only bike company at Battery Park closed early and wouldn't let us hire bikes. We were stumped. We ended up doing a walk in the LP, which was pretty interesting and going to Shanghainese dim sum. The Boy and I would give it a 3.5 out of five. fair, but not amazing. We ate crab and pork sui long bao, which were ok. Then we we bought a 32 inch telly and a load of groceries and carried the lot home from Union Square. We got some funny looks, which was to be expected.

My beef with laundry continued. We found an unclaimed laundry card and 'borrowed' it to do our laundry. (We did tell the doorman, who looked at us as if to say, 'So what? What do you want me to do about it.') It took us about three hours to do it and $17.50. No wonder people send their pants out to be washed.

We had brunch with team momentum today and then walked along the High Line and went to Chelsea Market. This was decidedly underwhelming, though I did eat some lush oysters. Before leaving the apartment, the roller blind decided to play up and now refuses to roll back. We've had it two weeks.

Tonight I properly flipped out. I wailed. Again. It was all supposed to be done by May 1st. We were supposed to be having fun and enjoying ourselves every day. Not living without curtains, broken blinds, with my smalls still in a suitcase as our chest of drawers lies decidedly flat-packed in our bedroom. I am fed up with going to Bed, Bath and Beyond, visiting the IKEA website, going to CB2 - they have a discount on blue items at the moment, which we missed out on - going to deepest darkest Queens to pick up secondhand airconditioning units, agonising over $2.99 plastic shower curtain hooks versus the $4.99 flimsy metal ones or the nice $7.99 ones.

May 1st was supposed to be the point when we'd be on the way to being settled. The end of six months of stress. We'd be living a wicked new life, learning something new every day. We're nearly there, we really are. But we have also been saying that for the last 2.5 months. I'm tired, but less tired than before my massive cry. And the Boy is online looking at bedside lamps, so that's one thing I don't have to do.

I have some photos of the good times: the good food, the friends we're starting to make, the glow-in-the-dark drinks from the Tiki night the other day, the beautiful sunshine, the vivid, bright coloured tulips from Madison Square Park, but Terry the Tablet won't let me upload them.

I am tired. Tomorrow I'll be ok again.

Cheese, wine, and a bit more cheese, and maybe a little more wine...

So I met up with Lisa and we went to Eataly on Wednesday night. A large glass of wine back home doesn't look too bad, but when they offer you up 250ml in a carafe, you realise that you're consuming quite a lot of wine! We had the most delicious cheese, honey and nut plate and then I sloped off to Korea town to catch up with the Boy and his work colleagues.

Korea town is bigger here than back home. Mind you, the three restaurants around Centrepoint don't really constitute a town. The restaurant we went to was pretty funky and had a lady playing plinky plonky music all night. I don't want to sound rude to another country's culture, but that was the sound from her stringed instrument. It sounded alright as far as restaurant music goes. Phil had this bibimbap that had chicken and cheese in it. I don't know how but it tasted like a Mexican bibimbap.

In other news, I have never needed an IT department as much as I do now. I was trying to do a work Skype call yesterday and somehow I managed to get no sound and the only image was of my keyboard even though the webcam was pointing directly at my face. We had to abort and I had to call her. I was hoping that things would resolve themselves after I shut down but no, same problem on a Skype call to my boss this AM. I'm so rubbish.

Yesterday we had a date with our realtor. Phil came home at 7pm after we'd already polished off a bottle of wine. It may sound strange - you wouldn't normally invite an estate agent around for a drink. But Charlotte's different, as she's German and gets being an expat. We ended up having a brilliant night of fun and going to this German bar in Alphabet City. She had these white sausages, which were delicious, but she pulled the intestinal skin off the sausage before eating the meat. It just looked so weird, so limp, so flaccid, lying dejectedly on the edge of her plate. It was as if it had tried to jump, but given up halfway.

We also had this mound of soft cheese covered with onions, which was delicious. Can't believe how much cheese and wine I've consumed over the last two nights. I can see I'm developing a cheese chin.

Tonight's plans are dinner and drinks with Jo and Bishop. Maybe I'll stick to beer and no dairy.

working remotely in New York

I started work at 630am this morning. It's so weird working remotely. Yesterday in the phone to E chan I'd said i would never keep my jammies on during a work call. And yet there i was with just a smart top and my pyjama bottoms on this 7am call.

Strangely, your working day is done by 2.30pm (even if you taken an hour for lunch) if you start at 630am. But you don't stop because that's the middle of the day. So after my last meeting at 3pm, I found myself still frantically tapping away on the modern crackberry, a Samsung s3. Admittedly, it was whilst watching the second half of the champions league semi final.

Meetings are also different here. It may be that we are I'm America our maybe it's because I'm newand foreign and British. I went to a meeting today with a corporate donor in the UK and ended up exchanging expat stories as she only moved here a couple of years ago. She also invited me to her netball cluband their on quiz on Saturday and is also going to try and get me tickets to see Macbeth through work.

But nothing beats sitting in the park at 5 pm waiting for happy hour. I wonder if the girl I'm going to meet will become my best friend I'm new York?  I just don't know.

May is going to be amazing!

May is going to be amazing because:

1) We'll get to catch up with my mate, Amy from the Netherlands, as she's over visiting;
2) I'll hopefully be able to catch up with a colleague from the London office;
3) We won't have to do any more furniture shopping or flat-pack - hopefully;
4) Dude, aka the Boy's dad is coming to visit;
5) Bethan is coming to visit;
6) We're piggy-backing on Bethan's trip to visit to her sister in Tampa, Florida; and
7) We're going to the Florida Keys and having our first proper break since April last year!

The last six months have been stupidly, crazily busy and exhausting. I am physically, mentally and emotionally drained.

I couldn't have done it without my husband.