Category: Europe

It’s good to hug a person

Ten years ago I lived on Delaware Road in London. Colin had gotten himself half-addicted to internet poker (mostly because he understood the algorithms) and I, in an attempt to connect with him in on his online poker island, suggested writing a couple’s poker blog. It was adorable… called “Poker Sweet Home: Married to the Flop”. It…

Notes from Inside the Train

Pyramid Electric Windows along Amtrak NER train 141

On Amtrak, my so-called real life is held at bayIn Philadelphia, the quiet car fills up completely– so completely that I can’t keep my screen hidden from my seat mate. I don’t know him, but I know enough that he was kind. He gave up his window seat to a couple so that they could…

In Love with ‘Love, Actually’

Love Actually Perfect

How 10 Years of Fear Have Bruised our HeartsBecause I forgot to take the bacon out of the freezer Christmas Eve, I got the chance to see “Love, Actually” again this year. It just so happens that this is the 10th anniversary of the film, and for some reason that means that people are thinking/talking…

How I Made Friends in London (Without Really Knowing How I Did It)

Moving to England? Concerned about being lonely and ostracized due to your homeland’s generalized ignorance, poor eating habits, and moronically Machiavellian leadership? DON’T WORRY! It’s simple! Just follow these easy, tried-and-true steps! Study important films from your host country to create an understanding of what ALL the people in that country will be like before you go.…

In Love with Royal Love

Grateful this morning, at 4:30 a.m., for Colin’s choice of 52″ inch HD. Eschewing Jon Stewart’s cynicism, for blogs on exotic millinery. Sharing the Royal Love feels sweet, pure; held whole A soft, cold, unpeeled orange. I am a Londoner again, today, splayed spread eagle In St. James Park at noontime– Between meetings– Hogging first slices of…

To Be a Storyteller

The #reverb10 final prompt from Molly O’Neill asked “What is your core story?” Being a huge fan of The Moth, and Eddie Izzard, and loving to hear people rattle off stories about their hilarious trip here and there —  and being a writer naturally — I am perplexed and in awe of storytellers. I can…

Depending

I’m on the train on the way to meet two old friends in New York. A part of me is terrified to put my foot on the platform at Grand Central. I am a traveller. I don’t stay put. I go places. Yet in the last 8 years I’ve mostly been with my travel companion,…

On Not Walking

Walking is joy. I love walking like I love Ira Glass and peanut butter cups. I am surprised that since I moved back to America from London, that I have given it up. Just basically decided that even though it is one of my favorite things to do in the world, I am not even…

I-OH!-Weigh: Please Fly On Over

Moral: Don’t Write Drunk. Day 8, #reverb 10: The Beauty of Different (Thanks, Karen Walrond.) I live on the East Coast, in the glowing gutters of the GOLD COAST. I am not from here, however, and that makes me “different.” That’s right. I’m not from these parts. I’ve traveled and lived all over, but moving…

A Long Way Up

This story starts with yoga, but it is really about being gone. Because, let’s face it, we all have the desire to be gone now and then. Sometimes more than we want to be here. Here’s the story: So I go to yoga and I am in some inversion: sun salutation, moving through upward dog…

On Awkward Days…

… And Processed Cheese I have this group of women friends that I, well, sort of worship. I knew them from college. We all worked together on the daily newspaper. It only recently occured to me that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t actually friends with them. Maybe it was that friend-ish-ness, where you later see…

Everybody’s got a darkness…

The fog and the mugginess this morning reminds me of London. Previously posted on Jan 16, 2006 Everybody’s got a darkness They’re not going to show it to you. It’s Monday and grey again in London. I dreamed of you last night. I sat in a cafe over cappuccinos with some friend. He told me…

When Nude Isn’t Naked

A Guest Post by Contributor Lisa Hill, American expatriate living in Switzerland. I walk through the room, topless, anticipating… He waits for me there, ready. I climb onto the table and my doctor begins the examination. Nudity. Nakedness. Not always the seductive, titillating state we Americans have infused it with. Sometimes, it’s just being without…

Venice and Other Temporary Places

The copy of John Berendt’s “The City of Fallen Angels” that Heather gave me is water-logged. It looks as though it made it here by water taxi. The book, which I am halfway through, wanders through this old city, meeting real Venetians and asking them: “How do you feel about Venice?” It’s a series of…