On Ready Feet

I am addicted to all things TBBT. Well, maybe not so far as memorizing "Rock, Paper, Lizard, Spock" and playing it with my nerdy friends, but addicted so much as to psychoanalyze my family and friends and relate them to their TBBT counterparts.) The reason I admit this is because I have an addiction problem. Well, I actually prefer to call it a loyalty conundrum (mmm...sounds like an TBBT episode title if I ever heard one!) The Loyalty Conundrum Theory goes something like this: if it's not The Big Bang Theory, it's Glee. If it's not Glee, it's New Girl. If it's not New Girl, it's The Mindy Project...etc. See what I mean? Besides the fact that it's super sad and rather cultish, I tend stick to shows that make me laugh and are so off-the-wall-weird it doesn't even make sense. Why? Because, when I'm watching them, I feel content. I feel special. Like I could be on a TV show. I relate to Sheldon's random understanding of soci...

I've been debating whether to address this much debated topic. But after watching numerous informative Youtube videos on the controversial subject, I think I'm ready to tackle the issue of...boredom.  I think I can actually count the amount of times I've felt "bored" on one hand.  Being bored is not something I like to do, so I try to avoid situations that would allow boredom to interrupt my life. There are so many other things to do than be bored. There are so many other things to say than "I'm bored." Firstly , telling someone you are bored is nothing short of an insult. Imagine this conversation taking place: Hi, Christie! Hey, Betsy. How're you?  I'm bored. Ouch. Poor Betsy. If I were her (in fact, I have been Betsy once or twice in reality) I would feel jilted and hurt. Here I was, genuinely concerned for my friend's welfare and bam - my company is deemed "boring". Why would one interesting, intel...

It's seriously the middle of March. And there is a ridiculous blizzard going on outside. What the heck, England!? I love snow. I really do. It's crunchy and cold and makes for great afternoons sitting inside reading a good book and sipping homemade cocoa. Too bad I don't feel like reading. And I've already gulped half my weight in cocoa. Um....I should write something. Like an inspiring poem - about snow! Glass panes, frosted in white Snow falls in the drifting twilight The view is a wondrous sight Good thing I'm not driving Or I'd be filled with fright. Okay, Maybe not writing. Maybe turn up the tunes! Whoooooa whoooa whooaoaoaoaoao Whoooooa whooooa Caught in a bad romance Whooooooa whooooa whooooooo Whoooooo Caught in a bad romance... Lady Gaga is stuck in my head at the moment. Sorry for not warning you. Oh gee, it's getting gnarlier out there. I got a plan. I think it's time to cook up some toasty stew and watch re-runs...

Mmmm...burnt popcorn is one of the best flavors in the world. Disagree with me if you will, my taste buds shall to challenge yours to an honorable duel. While that sounds crazy,  I won't deny that the crispy, smoky sensation of chomping on exploded popcorn kernels isn't delicious. There's nothing in the world quite like it. I do think memories have a lot to do with my preference towards the singed snack, however.  I'm talking about being a part of a family of avid movie watchers. Seriously, we watch a flick a night. I know, I know, it's compulsive and terrible for our mental health. Still, popcorn is an essential part of this family bonding time. Popcorn coated in butter and salt simply makes any movie watching experience that much more memorable.  And then you add the burnt element, and it's like "wowsa"! Almost like being a part of the extravagant fiery sequences and explosions in every single Star Wars episode. While you can't feel the sco...

I think that out of all the houses, manors, castles and palaces I've had the privilege of seeing in Europe, Blenheim remains a steady favorite.    Blenheim Palace - Impressive, huh? Not only is this an actual, lived in (the 11th Duke of Marlborough currently resides in the the spacious East wing) internationally-renown palace - but it has a spectacular and rich  history surrounding its keen structure. It's easily a historian's playground and a tourist's dream! I can't reveal all its secrets, but I think my favorite aspects of the palace lie in the fantastic array of personalities who claimed it as home. The palace has certainly seen its fair share of inhabitants, from audacious and aristocratic dukes to honorable military men (such as Winston Churchill). Another quality I admire is the grand scale of the palace. From the first moment one wanders up the carriage way, one is struck with the massive size of the palace and property. Going for a walk in the garde...

I have a theory. It's not been proven, but I still think it rings with truth. You can get the tourist out of the American, but you can't get the American out of the tourist. Even living in England, my American roots arent disappearing anytime soon. Americans are known in other countries to be loud and fun and somewhat annoying. I concur with that. You can spot Americans in a foreign crowd anyday.  We like to share our opinions and make our pleasures known. Like the scene from "A Good Year" depicting an American couple ordering at a French restaurant. "Where is our waiter, we've been waiting years!" "What do you mean they don't serve Ranch dressing here?" "I'm on a diet, but I want to order extra bacon bits on my calorie-free salad." Oh goodness, we're pretty noticeable, aren't we? Don't get me wrong, I love calling America home. Where else in the world can you boast a working Democracic system, job flexib...

Playing with 6 year olds really alters one's perception of the world. Everything you know of adulthood and it's worries and rules is swept away like so much rubbish when you immerse yourself once again in that magical place called childhood. Chess is on longer a highly strategic, mind-boggling test of intellect in the world of a child. It's actually a different way to practice bowling skills. The pieces are not only excellently carved, but make perfect pins primed for knocking down. Amidst elated shouts and whirling arms, the dignified chess pieces scatter unceremoniously across the black-and-white board in the excitement of the game. Drawing is no longer minimized to doodles at the company board meeting or used to scale architectural projects. No, in childhood, drawing is a fine art. Art that tells not one story, but many stories. Drawing is the gateway to true imagination. Where else could Princesses and peacocks and green, one-eyed monsters laugh and have a party? ...

I've got 15 minutes to post this. But I have no idea what "this" is. I had so many great ideas earlier today. They were witty. And thought-provoking. And...forgotten. I promised myself to write a good post everyday, but looks like I've drawn a blank. Not that blanking is a bad thing. Blanking can be good, in some respects. Thinking you have a phenomenal idea and then subsequently losing it in your subconsciousness can open a door to another idea you might have never considered. Thinking you are going to make a quesadilla for lunch, for example. Sure, chicken and cheese and tortillas make a delicious mix. But wait. What was that? Darn it. I was thinking about meat for some reason...Mmmm...Steak sounds  good. Yeah, seasoned steak and a baked potato and...and shrimp! Bingo! Grab some friends, share a meal and finally use that leftover gift card for Ruby Tuesday's you forgot about until the opportune moment. Thank you, blanks, for making life interes...

I literally had to Google how to spell the word "Blonde". Is it with an "e"? Does no "e" mean it's not a possessive pronoun? Hold on - what's a possessive pronoun again? I loved English class in High school. That Mr. Nukula, what a teacher. Really knew his stuff. I think that's the first place I developed a love for classic literature. That, and I had a crush on the guy a few desks over. Nevermind. Being a teacher is hard work. I'd rather study marine creatures. Haha! Those pale, funny whale/dolphins with squishy heads are adorable! I'm sure they have a scientific name...I should Google tha - oh, delphinapterus leucas a.k.a. beluga. What a cool name! My second child's middle name should be Beluga. Of course, his first name will be Dominic. I picked that name out when I was seven. Funny how much I liked being seven... Such is the life of a blonde. Only me can call me blonde. It's more of a burnt brown color...oops...

         Reading Jon Acuff's Quitter is motivational. Very motivational. He's a Christian writer, blogger, speaker, and satirist. He's someone who is pretty much living my dream. His book is the magic wand that inspired me to start this blogging thing again. After two failed attempts, I'm not too sure this won't be the third blogging Titanic, but why quit?         Mr. Acuff states that our generation is a generation of quitters. We tend to always want to move on to the next thing, never content to stay where we are because we just KNOW that our dream is around the next corner. I was under the same illusion. If I simply "gave up", "let go", a.k.a."quit", my dream occupation would eventually swim my way and save me from drowning in my going-nowhere ocean. Not so.       Jon actually gives the illustration of swimming to prove his point. If you really want to learn how to swim, you have to get wet. Sure, you can read swimmi...

Sunset in England I love looking outside my window every evening and staring at this explosion of sunset light up the twilight sky. You can't see it, but there are microscopic raindrops falling as the sun fades, making the view run like a watercolor painting. Absolute brilliance and perfection.