Finally! A blog post!

I have been the world's worst at updating here and have been receiving -- ahem! -- nudges to do so...
In order to try to fix my wrongdoings, I will create headers, and you can scan to the areas as you wish. (winks)

New Year's Eve

Ok, I'm going a bit back in time here, but suffice it to say, New Year's was fabulous. Steve and I went to Maz and John's, for a relaxed evening with them and another couple, Tom and Abbey. It was just as I'd wanted.
I'd rushed around a bit the day of, trying to make a breakfast strada (mom's recipe which clearly stated to use at least two layers, lest one risk a soggy morning treat), dyeing my hair (which came out a bit too red than I'd have liked), running the dog (as she'd have to await my return in the hungover morning) and wrapping a last minute hostess gift. Whew. So much to do, so little time.

Nonetheless, the night was positively lovely. Maz and John made a fabulous roast dinner, we giggled all night, even played some Wii -- as everyone ought to on NYE, in accord with those exercise resolutions.

What was so different this year was the fact that instead of watching Dick Clarke's Rockin' New Year, televised from Times Square, with the ball dropping and the drunks galore, was that I was watching a similar site -- um...but minus the Times Square and plus a Big Ben.
Admittedly, there's something oh-so-romantic and fab for an Anglophile like me to hear Big Ben chiming away at midnight. Admittedly, just like Times Square, I'd not want to actually be there, I'd just like to see it on tv, enjoying it in a warm home, with vino and very fun peeps all around me -- just as it was.

Borough Market

Now, it must be said that I love food. I love eating. I love cooking. I love pawing through recipe books 'as though they were novels,' as Mom would say. (Ah, she and I are exactly the same!) I have learned, quite sadly, that my cooking is not like it was back home. That is, I realise full-well that I'm not a chef, but I used to cook reallllly well when at home. I could make any dinner and even a first attempt yielded something not only edible, but actually --gasp! -- tasty!

I'm not sure if it's a measurement thing, a temperature thing, or the fact that everything tastes slightly, if not more, different here (e.g. sour cream, butter, beef -- the staples). I could've been smart and realised, as Steve's mom easily pointed out, 'Are you cooking American recipes or English ones?' Oh. Right.

With one easygoing question, I think I had an epiphany: my States-side recipes aren't going to taste the same here and even more so, I nearly wonder if my palette has changed -- if even slightly -- in the few months since I've arrived. (Ok, ok, I'll always have a palette for 'dirty Mexican' food -- oh, yum!) but I think Charmian is exactly right: I need to expand my culinary horizons, and this adventure is exactly what I needed to do for that.

With that in mind, Steve and I went to my favorite-of-favorite places, Borough Market. It's a foodie's dream. And on a Saturday, one can find millions of like-minded foodies wandering around, trying 'drunk cheese' (that is, aged in wine -- and the red wine one was amazing, by the way), perusing the stalls with plucked geese and local game and being astounded by the squid, seafood and enormous fish, as though we were in Japan.

We tubed on down to Borough one cold Saturday, had a spot of lunch from a Greek stand with grilled halloumi cheese (which smelled like tires -- or tyres) yet amazing lamb burgers. Get on. It was awesome. Eating fab food in the shadow of the historic Southwark

Cathedral? Ah, it doesn't get much better than that...then we wandered into a local stall that sold pork, beef, chicken, eggs...everything from the local counties.

Feeling brave, we decided to pick up a lovely lamb roast. Yum. We asked the guy behind the counter how to cook it, but didn't really understand the response. No matter, Steve said he'd take care of it...and take care of it he did.

We roasted the lamb (ok, he roasted the lamb whilst I relaxed with a glass of wine) to perfection. Add amazing rosemary/olive oil potatoes, some veggies, fab wine, and a cosy night in. That, my friend, is what makes one's toes curl.

My new job!

Before I begin, let me first say thank you to all who have sent their prayers and thoughts to me whilst I was interviewing and looking. It worked!

Next, I must yet again reiterate my belief that I've held true for the past decade or so -- if it doesn't work out, it's not to be. Ain't it the truth? (winks)

It must be said that my first week here, I had interviewed for a job that was quite good: fab salary, rather prestigious, heck, even a relatively easy commute. I didn't get that job... even though I thought the interview went rather well. They'd told the recruiter that I didn't tell them enough about my accomplishments. Aww...I was trying to be not-so-braggy-American! Meh, I knew then that it just wasn't where I was supposed to be. There's always a reason why things do or don't work out, I've found.

When I'd interviewed for this role, Casey was on the last day of her Thanksgiving visit. Her lovely encouragement and support was, just like my family's all along, what I needed to hear as I trekked off to the interview. They did, in fact, hire me. Yay!

I love this place...It's rather familiar like my Premier, filled with uber-ambitious, smart people who are cool, sweet and non-political, though this role has the opportunity for me to actually make a difference and show them something they don't already know. My immediate boss, Katie, is smart-alec-ly, dry-witted (as I adore in the English) and may I even say a bit offbeat in the coolest of ways (she recently wrote a novel and placed in a carry-the-wife-on-the-shoulders competition somewhere in Scandinavia) and my boss's boss, Lucy, is just like my old boss, Stacey: smart, incredibly efficient, and knows everything about the industry in which she works and has a personality with which I just click.

Everyone else in the office? Fun and fab. I feel as though I've landed in a BBC America show (um, not The Office) where everyone is close, a little silly and a lot of awesome. That, my friends, is why I didn't get the role that first week. Had I been hired for that, or any of the other ones, I'd have missed this chance...and I love it here.

I'm in Waterloo, near the North Lambeth tube station, across from the Imperial War Museum. In the evenings, when I walk back to the tube, I can see the London Eye lit up against the night sky and something inside me just smiles.

Across from the Museum is a row of gorgeous townhomes. My English coworker with the perfect posture and the posh accent, Alice, had pointed out that it was likely a square but that in the war most of it had been bombed...hence the 1960s/1970s architecture that surrounds our office. Wow. Hadn't even thought of that...Without getting political, it's so hard to imagine war on one's own home soil and the damage that can be done. Suffice it to say, it was yet another epiphany for me.

Now, if I can just prove to them my abilities...(winks) But the fact that there's a really cute pub catty-corner from the office, The Three Stags, where we're having anti-Valentine's Day drinks is groovy in the meantime, too. hehe...

Ok, it's late...This is long...and I still have many more stories and pics to post. Up next? Maz's birthday, Steve's departure, and a fab Sunday roast and tea/cakes with the family...