What if...

Claudia and I went to the ISH bar last night to meet Joe, a 40-something business man and new friend who uses Regent's Gym downstairs. The first time I met him, I was reading a book at the front desk, and he asked what I was reading. Then I witnessed a literary explosion from him. He just went off about this book and that book and have I ever read this one. I was amused and nodded along using the skills I learned as a bartender to feign interest, not thinking I'd ever see him again, but he came the next day with a book in hand to lend to me! So after that, Joe and I started chatting every time he came in about books, then careers, then nonprofits. He is seriously involved in public service, was even nominated for recognition of his work in London. He was so nice to forward my CV on to his employer and began tapping into his connections to see if I could have any volunteer work in media or advertising. He invited me to a debate event at the U.S. Embassy on Monday night but when I RSVPed a day later, it was completely booked.

Last night at the ISH bar he introduced us to Arun, an adorable tiny white-haired Indian man who listened to stories in such an entertaining way I would watch him instead of the story teller. He would say "yes, yes" with hand motions and wide eyes then fall back in his chair laughing at the punchline.
When Arun found out that I have a degree in strategic communication and am temporarily at ISH he said "Well if I pass your CV on to companies and they like you, are you committed to working at ISH?" I had to pause because technically, I signed a six-month contract ending March 1. But I thought about it and said that if someone offered me a job in my field in LONDON FREAKING ENGLAND, I couldn't think twice about taking it.
Then he proposed something to me that did make me think twice. What if I volunteered or interned at an agency and they wanted to take me up in March when my contract is over with ISH?

This is something I secretly wished for when I made the trip over here. And I honestly don't know what I would say.

Well, I'm at work again today and disgusted with the weather. It's beautiful, sunny, and Saturday morning. A perfect day for markets, and I get to sit here all morning. It's okay, though. I'm going to Carmina Burana tonight at Royal Albert Hall which should be incredible. I was told that you have to dress up to appreciate the music, so maybe a new dress is in order...

Never thought I'd love Paris...

Paris...it seems so cliche, doesn't it?
But it's not, because cliches are overused and exaggerated, and usually cliche situations or places don't turn out as sweet as they sound.
Paris was everything people say and 10 times more.

I went there dragging my feet a bit, wishing I was going to Budapest or Amsterdam...anywhere with more substance than a fairy tale's happy ending with fluffy dogs and croissants. It's okay, I told myself. I'll always be able to say I saw the Eiffel Tower.

Then I arrived. The city is the most romantic place, extremely poetic and so so beautiful with the nature, the people and the architecture. First thing we did was take a boat cruise, which I really didn't appreciate as much as I could have because I didn't figure out until halfway through it that I could listen in English if I pressed a certain button. Then we waited in line for the Eiffel Tower.
I've been up the Hancock Building
the Space Needle.
the Sears Tower.
Hell, let's throw the top of the Hyatt in Kansas City in, too.
I've never understood what's so great about soaring thousands of feet in the air to look down at the tops of buildings and gridlocked streets. Until Paris.

I could have spent all night up there, and the next. I could have spent my entire weekend in Paris at the top of the Eiffel Tower and not have been disappointed at all. I would have told myself I could do it all the next trip: Montmatre would still be a hike, the graves would still be there in Pere Lachaise cemetery, and Paris nightlife would always be strong enough to forget the following morning. The sunset beyond the city seemed to be painted by the artists below it.

More on my Paris adventure when I'm more awake...

Watching the leaves change

I always knew I was a city girl.
Every city I've been in since I was a teenager, whether it was Chicago, Seattle, Houston, or elsewhere, I knew the energy of metropolitan life was for me. And oddly enough, when I thought of myself in a city, I never pictured a specific career I would be pursuing. I always thought about how I would spend my free time. Jogging along Lake Michigan's waterfront - going miles further than I would ever go at home - , or sipping a latte in a coffee shop shadowed by skyscrapers reading a book I still haven't had time to read.

I'm living a little of that life right now, and I love it. Though I haven't made it 10k nor finished reading nearly enough books.

I was running in Regent's Park today. The park is like a jigsaw puzzle, and every time I go I get to find a new piece of it. Today I noticed the leaves. I realized that they've been different every time. That's the only way I know the seasons are changing, my runs in Regent's. I jogged under a high ceiling of tree limbs today on a worn grass path next to the proper walkway, which was lined with benches. The ground was damp and covered in orange leaves that allowed pockets of grass to breathe in the gaps of their landings. Moss-covered trees tinted the pathway green on both sides, planted in perfectly measured distances, and the branches met at a peak like an arched hallway. I could see so far ahead of me, and I felt like I was the only person there.

In between my Regent's Park runs and long shifts at ISH, I've been planning my travels with friends. It makes me realize how little time I have here. Paris this week, Brighton the next, then it's November and a whole new month of traveling to Wales and Scotland.
All this traveling and working, and hardly any time to think seriously about my career choices. That's the reason behind this trip (or should I say justification?). I didn't know exactly what I should be doing where back in America, and I told myself that I might as well be confused about it in a different country. I've only learned that I know I want to continue my education, though I know not what in. I suppose a little progress is better than none.

Exciting news --finally figured out the slideshow tool! The pictures in the upper right show are mine, unlike the photo in this post, which I grabbed from a random site..

Simple things.

I don't blog enough.
I'm used to writing for myself...unedited, no pressure to entertain, but I know you're out there, reading this, so I always wonder if what I'm about to write is even worth reading to some people. So since I think there's so much pressure on me to write something earth changing, I decided this will be a blog for the simpler things in life.

Like the flowers on the corner of the reception desk. Every Monday the woman from the florist shop across the street brings a new vase with brand new budding flowers. Each time they're a different arrangement and I get to watch them bloom through the week. She just breezed through with them five minutes ago, swapping out the old vase. I always wonder what happens to the flowers in the old vase. Do they throw them away? Leave them on display at the store? They're still beautiful after a week. But I told the florist that I think I enjoy the flowers more than anyone because I'm next to them all day long. She smiled and said "Well, we shall turn them towards you then."

Simple things.

They're pink lilies, in case anyone out there wonders. Only two are really close to being fully open, but there are a few more on the way and the rest are all buds. We'll see how fast they grow.

Or yesterday, I enjoyed ice cream spaghetti at an Italian cafe. It was noodly strings of ice cream with strawerry syrup on top and white chocolate flakes. Absolutely amazing. It was followed by a bargain deal at a street vendor for a £19 leather coat. Then there's the Moody Blues concert tonight at Royal Albert Hall. Word is the acoustics at this venue are phenomenal...www.royalalberthall.com