On your mark, get set...

Here's a fun story from the Tube this morning. 

Right before a train leaves, an announcement will be made. "Please stand clear of the doors. This train is ready to depart." This happens every time any train leaves any platform, and it's always exactly the same.

So imagine my surprise today when this announcement came over the speakers: "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Underground Olympic train races. Please stand clear of the doors, because the race is about to begin. Drivers, take your marks. Get set...go!"

And we were off. Everyone was smiling -- a rare occurrence during rush hour in Central London.

It was a nice little moment during an otherwise mundane commute. 

  

"If a smile like that is single, I'm throwing myself off this train."

Girls, we've all been there. You're alone, and somehow end up stuck in close proximity with a creeper of a guy who seems to be going out of his way to make you feel uncomfortable.

Today was my turn.

Now, I don't really like to be the center of attention. I'd rather just blend in and keep to myself. But apparently my crossed arms, averted gaze, and other please-just-leave-me-alone body language was a little misleading.


Two guys got on the train a couple stops down the line and sat down directly across from me, despite the fact the train was pretty much empty. One had a dog. It kind of lunged at me (in a friendly, non-threatening way), which essentially threw me into the spotlight. So they started talking about me (but not to me) -- things like "Oy, leave that lovely lady alone," etc. It got to the point where they were wondering out loud if I was married, and one of them actually said, "If a smile like that is single, I'm throwing myself off this train." 


And that's how he died.


Kidding. 

Anyway I tried to avoid actually speaking to them the whole time, because I figured that my American accent would just them more to talk about. The whole ordeal was super awkward. 

But something I've noticed is that creepy English men are often far more charming than creepy American men (even if it's just in their word choices), because they say things like, "Afternoon, my darling," or "There's something elegant about that one there," or "You are a gorgeous one, m'dear." 

And while it's true that that can also be super creepy, during the daylight it's not panic-inducing, and it's quite funny because it's so stereotypically British.

So even though I left that train thoroughly embarrassed, I also had to laugh.

Olympic cyclists: blink & you'll miss em.

The cycling came right through Kingston today, so of course we had to go see it. We got there plenty early, and spent an hour or so watching official-looking guys walk up and down the road, telling people to stay on the sidewalk, as the cyclists could be there at any minute. Every so often, a non Olympic cyclist would pedal by, and the crowd would cheer and laugh.

We knew they were close when we saw the helicopter circling overhead. Everyone got really excited.

And then this is what we saw:

  

 

  

We were so close to the athletes. There were two groups (that video is of the first), and they were going crazy fast. It was pretty incredible how close together they all were -- one little mistake would surely cause the whole group to go down.

  

And it did, apparently. About five minutes after they passed us. Crazy.

Also, Chris Froome of Great Britain was lagging way behind (at least, we think that was him). Not sure why. But he got a huge applause when he finally came through.

   

  

Anyway, after they passed by, we booked it to a nearby pub to watch the rest of the race. And even though neither the US nor Great Britain medaled, it was still so fun! Our first Olympic event! And then we came home and gathered round the computer screens to watch other events for about six more hours. (Sidenote: Handball! What the heck?!) 

  

All in all, a great day.

 

Let the games begin.

When I first got here last September, I took this picture:

At that point, the Olympics seemed forever away. But all of the sudden, this has happened:

Zero days. Can you believe it? They're here! The opening ceremony is tonight. And even though I'm not venturing into Central to watch it (tickets for Hyde Park tonight are £60, and that's just not going to happen), I'm excited to be here, nonetheless.

Get excited, world. It's time for London 2012. 

(Oh, and go USA!)

 

Wednesday randoms.

Well, summer has finally hit London, and sunshine abounds! The highs this week have been in the upper 80s (20s and 30s for you Celsius lovers). I know that's nothing compared to the 105+ degree weather back home, but it certainly feels hot.

Say you want to shave some calories off your Starbucks beverage. You'd probably ask for "no whip," right? Well that would get you confused looks here. Instead, you'll be asked whether or not you want "cream." Whipped cream is the homemade stuff that you actually have to whip yourself. The stuff out of the can? That's "squirty cream."

To get the full effect, say it out loud.
But don't pronounce the 't'.

Now that the rain has stopped, I keep looking for excuses to be outside. The past few days, a bunch of us have gotten together to play football (European style), which has reminded me just how out of shape I am. Still, so much fun.

A fellow American and I really wanted to get an American football to throw around, so we went to this giant sports store in town to find one. It was four floors of every piece of sports equipment you could think of, including baseballs and bats, but alas...no pigskins. It worked out okay, though, because his brother is visiting, and he brought one. Since no one (and I mean no one) from here has ever thrown one, my sloppy spiral might actually look good for once!

The most frustrating thing about job searching is the fact that you don't often hear back if you're unsuccessful. And I guess I kind of understand. Companies get hundreds of applicants. But the not knowing just means you sit there waiting, indefinitely. It can be very frustrating. I'd so much rather get an outright rejection, even in the form of a mass email. And I'm not the only one...

Just to clarify, that's hyperbolic language.
I promise she didn't mean it.

Hannah showed me this months ago. I still laugh out loud.

Imagine you're sitting in your room trying to get some work done, and all of the sudden, you hear this blaring from your flatmate's speakers. You may or may not almost fall out of your chair laughing, like I did...after a brief moment of pure horror, of course.

And finally, since today is July 25, I want to wish you a happy Christmas in July! Take some time to celebrate with these boys.

Enjoy your Wednesday.

Olympics, round two.

I was 8 years old when my family went to the Olympics in Atlanta. My memories are a bit fuzzy, but a few stand out: getting to see the women's gymnastics (that was the year the US won gold), playing in the Centennial Olympic Park fountains, the debut of Dippin' Dots (it was supposed to be the ice cream of the future, remember?), and going to see the torch as it made its way to the stadium.

That was in 1996.

Who would have thought that 16 years later, I'd get the chance to do Olympics, round two?

Ladies and gentlemen, get excited for London 2012.

I know I am.
  

Stress baking (& chocolate chip cookies).

I had a minor emotional breakdown this evening.

Our lease ends in September. It's almost August. So my flatmate and I were discussing our plans, when we realized something: we don't really have any.

Sure, we'd both like to stay in London. But as of right now, neither of us have jobs or a place to live. And both of those are pretty much non negotiable. The thing is, until we've got jobs lined up, we can't be sure we can afford rent. But regardless of whether or not we've made other housing arrangements, we're out in just over a month. It's kid of terrifying.

As we talked through it, I could hear the panic begin to creep into my voice. I took a deep breath. It was 9:00 at night, which meant there was nothing we could do about our situation right then, but it felt like if we didn't answer all the questions right then, our worlds would crumble.

Have you ever been there? That place between feeling this desperate need to do something -- anything -- but also being kind of helpless? I'm a pretty action oriented person. I don't like to sit around and worry. I like to do. But sometimes that's just not an option.

It's times like these that I typically do one of two things: cry or bake.

I didn't want to cry, so I made these instead.

Chocolate chip cookies

[Disclaimer: Those of you who've known me for a while are probably familiar with the fact that my dad is the undisputed king of chocolate chip cookies. I'm sorry to tell you that this is not his recipe. But it's still pretty darn good.]

 Ingredients:

1/2 cup (1 stick or 113 g) butter, softened

1/2 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. salt

1 3/4 cup flour

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup brown sugar, packed

1 egg

1 1/2 tsp. vanilla

chocolate chips (amount varies according to how chocolatey you like your cookies)

chopped pecans (optional - I think these are essential accents, though I've been told they're "interruptions")

Directions:

First off, apologies for the lack of pictures. Just imagine some really lovely chocolate chip cookies (like these). Then imagine how amazing your kitchen would smell like if you made them. The smell alone should be enough to make you want to try this recipe. If it's not, I'm not sure there's anything I can do or say to persuade you otherwise. 

This is really difficult. Are you ready?

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 C). Make sure your butter is softened. 

Combine all ingredients (sans chocolate chips and pecans) and mix. 

Fold in chocolate chips and pecans. Form into balls (of whatever size you prefer) and bake for 10 minutes, or until the bottoms are golden brown.

Place on a cooling rack and stare longingly at them till your need to eat one is greater than your fear of being burned by molten chocolate chips. Or until they're just warm enough. Then, enjoy.

That's all, folks.